



















































c 

s 


> 

4 

I 





Phil examines the Chart. Page 74. 















THE UPWARD AAD ONWARD SERIES 



SEA AND SHORE 

OR 

THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER 


BY 


OLIVER OPTIC 

AUTHOR OF “young AMERICA ABROAD,’’ “ THE ARMY AND NAVY STORIES 
“ THE WOODVILLE STORIES,’’ “ THE BOAT CLUB STORIES,’’ “ THE 
STARRY FLAG SERIES,’’ “ THE LAKE SHORE 
SERIES,’’ ETC. 




vJ 


G-'CL'rtxvvt.^ 


WITH THIRTEEN ILLUSTRATIONS 

' • ' - 

ii 


m^mm 


BOSTON 

LEE AND SHEPARD, PUBLISHERS 

1900 



1 


Library of CoB»ret% 
Office of tbc 

MAY 8 - 180 U 

KegUter of Copyriglf* 

8toJNL» COPY. 



6f 


4 '' 


Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872, 
By william T. ADAMS, 

In the Office’ of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 


Copyright, 1900, by Alice Adams Bussell. 


All Rights Reserved. 

Sea and Shore. 



TCorfoooh i^ressj : 

Berwick & Smith, Norwood, Mass., U.S.A. 





nj 


MY YOXJN-G- IPRIEI^r) 

CHARLES HUDSON, 

OF CHICAGO, 


srijb 


00 k 


IS AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED, 


% 


i 


4 


ft 


t 


0 4 




I 


} 




I 


/ 


'4 




I 




I ^ 


I 




4 


\ 


{ • 



PEEF ACE 


“Sea and Shore” is the sixth and last of the Onward and 
Upward Series, in which Phil Farringford, in company with 
his friend, Larry Grimsby, has some experience as a traveller. 
The story includes the cruise of the Blanche, a first-class yacht, 
which goes to the Bermuda ^Islands, across the Atlantic, up the 
Baltic, and along the shores of the Mediterranean. The various 
“Tramps” of these young gentlemen are in the Bermudas, in 
Norway, Sweden, on the Rhine, and in other parts of Europe, 
though the volume is in no sense a book of travel. The only 
object of the writer was to tell his story, in which he has en- 
deavored to make his heroes worthy the respect of the reader, 
and their life and character worthy of imitation. 

The unpleasant relations between Larry Grimsby and his 
cousin Miles lead to a yacht race from New York to the Bermu- 
das, and the incidents of the story are based mainly on the per- 
sistent hostility of Miles, who seeks to injure, and even destroy, 


6 


6 


peeface. 


his cousin. But Larry has a true Christian spirit, and in the 
end, when his bitter enemy is sick, “even unto death,” and is 
deserted by his friends and dependants, seeks him out, nurses 
him with the tenderness of a woman, saves his life, and, what is 
better, redeems and reforms his character. If it was not Phil 
who did this, it was his influence which inspired his friend to 
do it. 

This volume closes tho series, and leaves Phil comfortably 
settled, and still persuing his Onward and Upward career. We 
are sorry to leave him, for we always prefer old friends to new 
acquaintances. We hope the venerable judge on the shores of 
the Pacific is not the only one who shares this regret with us, 
and we indulge our own vanity in quoting a few lines from his 
kind letter : ‘ ‘Do you know, I like your Phil Farringford ever so 
much, and shall be sorry to bid him good by, for he is a noble 
fellow and a fine character. Therefore, I hope his successor wifi 
not disgrace him, but will do full justice to his predecessor.” 

Harrison Square, Boston. 

April ao, 1870. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTEE I. 

PAGE 

In which Phtl and Labby talk oveb Things past, 

PBESENT, AND TO COME 11 

CHAPTER 11. 

In which Phil and Labby go on Boabd of the Blanche. 25 

CHAPTER III. 

In which Phil engages a Second Mate fob the 

Blanche 39 

CHAPTER IV. 

In which Labby visits the Whitewing, and Phil gets 

THE Blanche undeb way 53 

CHAPTER V. 

In which Phil discovebs that the Whitewing gains on 

THE Blanche 67 

CHAPTER VI. 

In which Phil speaks veby candidly to the Second 

Mate 80 

CHAPTER VII. 

In which Phil disposes of the Second Mate. ... 9^ 


7 


8 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER VIIL 

In which Phil boards the Wreck of the 'White- 
wing 308 

CHAPTER IX. 

In which Phil takes Miles Grimsby and others on 

Board the Blanche 122 

CHAPTER X. 

In which Phil relieves the Hermia, and listens to 

Larry’s Story 136 

CHAPTER XL 

In which Phil and Larry make some new Acquaint- 
ances AT St. George 150 

CHAPTER XII. 

In which Phil and Larry dine at the Governor’s, 

AND A Quarrel ensues 165 

CHAPTER XIIL 

In which Phil and Larry decline various Offers. . 179 

CHAPTER XIV. 

In which Phil and Larry take another Tramp, and 

AN Affair of Honor impends 194 

CHAPTER XV. 

In which Phil and Larry witness the Capture of a 

Man-eater 208 

CHAPTER XVI. 


In which Phil and others are confounded by a Mys- 
tery 222 


CONTENTS 


9 


CHAPTER XVII. 

tN WHICH pHUi AND LaeBY ABE ASTONISHED, AND THEN 

ABE ASTONISHED AGAIN 236 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

In WHICH pHID AND OTHEBS SOLVE THE MySTEBT . , 250 

CHAPTER XIX. 

In which Phil and Labby set out on a long Tbamp 264 

CHAPTER XX. 

In which Phil and Labby visit the Vobingeos, in 

Nobway 277 

CHAPTER XXL 

In which Phil bescues Labby fbom a veby pebilous 

Position 291 

CHAPTER XXII. 

In which Phil and Labby go thbough Sweden in the 

Blanche 305 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

In which Phil and Labby meet McFobdingham on two 

SPECIAL Occasions 319 

CHAPTER XXIV. 


In which Phil and Labby finish theib Tbamps, and 
settle down fob Life 


333 



SEA AND SHORE; 


OR, 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


CHAPTER I. 


m WHICH PHIL AND LARRY TALK OVER THINGS 
PAST, PRESENT, AND TO COME. 

OW are you, old fellow?” shouted Larry 



AJL Grimsby, as he grasped my hand and 
wrung it till I could hardly help screaming with 
pain. “Phil Farringford, I’m downright glad to 
see you.” 

“Thank you, Larry; but allow me to remind 
you that my hand is composed of flesh and blood.” 

“Is that all?” 

“That’s enough.” 

“I don’t think so; for I always claim to have 
some bones in my hand. But how are you, old 


fellow?” 

“Never better.” 


11 


12 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“And your pa and ma’ 

“Excellently well.” 

“And that little Miss Softwood?” 

“Gracewood!” I suggested, indignantly. 

“I beg your pardon, Phil. I knew you were 
just a little soft in that direction; and I had really 
forgotten what sort of wood she was. Gracewood 
— I’ll remember it now,” rattled my friend. 

“I hope you will. If you don’t, we may quar- 
rel. By the way, Larry, how is that little Miss 
Penny more?” 

“Fennimore, you rascal!” 

“I beg your pardon. I forgot you were rich, 
and did not need a penny more.” 

“Very good, Phil. You’ll do.” 

I had come all the way from St. Louis, where 
my father and mother lived, stopping at Chicago, 
where my grandfather, uncles, and aunts lived, to 
New York, in the month of April, to join Larry, 
with whom I was to sail for Europe as the captain 
of his yacht. On a similar journey the year be- 
fore, Larry had saved me from death in conse- 
quence of a railroad accident, and I could not help 
noticing the place on the way where the catas- 
trophe had occurred. We had become fast 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. ^ 13 

friends, because I was able to serve him also. 
^Ve went to Eiiroi3e together; and, though he 
started as a beggar and an orphan, he found his 
grandfather in tlie person of Sir Philip Grimsby, 
an English baronet, of immense wealth ; and Larry 
was now doing his best to spend an allowance of 
ten thousand pounds a year, which, he confessed, 
was almost too much for his constitution. We 
had .served on a brief campaign with the French 
army of Italy during the “battle summer.” 

On board the steamer, crossing the ocean, Larry 
had made the acquaintance of Miss Blanche Fenni- 
more, whose mother was connected with the fam- 
ily of the baronet. He Avas in love with, and now 
was engaged to her. She had spent the winter 
Avith some friends in New York, and Larry had 
taken up his residence in the great city, in order 
to be near her. I found him lodged in furnished 
apartments of the most luxurious description, in 
Fifth Avenue. He had a large parlor and a large 
bedroom; and I Avas glad to see that the former 
was well stocked Avith books, Avhich, on examina- 
tion, proved to be Avorks of history, philosophy, 
and science. I like to see young men and women 
read solid works, and resort to novels and stories 


14 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


only for amusement, though they may impart good 
moral lessons. I was glad to see the character of 
his books, because we had had some talk on the 
subject, and he had promised to read good books, 
and improve his mind. He had written me that 
he always went to church twice on Sunday, rain 
or shine; and from Avhat else I knew of him, I 
was satisfied that he was trying to live wisely and 
well, in spite of tlie vast income which he felt 
obliged to spend. I had asked him in a letter 
whether he did any good with his money; but he 
always evaded a reply, quoting the Scripture in- 
junction that the left hand should not know what 
the right hand did. 

I suppose I was vain, like other young men, but 
1 could not help feeling proud of my friend — 
proud of the influence I had exerted over him. 
Before I knew him he was dissolute and reckless, 
whereas he was now a young man of high aims, 
who indulged in no vices. Ho had stopped drink- 
jiig, gambling, and other evil ways, and was, in 
every respect, as proper a young man as I should 
wish to see. Somebody has corrupted the old 
maxim, so that it runs, “Be virtuous, and you 
will be happy, but 3^011 won’t have half so good 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


L) 

a time.” Larry’s experience seemed to be other- 
vvise, for he had “a good time.” Well, he had 
everything to make him happy, including the love 
of a beautiful girl, who was almost an angel; but 
then, those who are similarly blessed with all that 
this world can give, are oftener the ones to turn 
aside from the straight and narrow path of right- 
eousness into the broad and thorny road of wick- 
edness. I think Larry was happy, and “had a 
good time,” because he was good and true. But 
I declare, I am moralizing; though I believe in 
this doctrine, and feel inclined to “do it some 
more.” 

I told Larry all about the folks in St. Louis and 
Chicago, and he told me all about those in New* 
York, though I was interested only in Blanche 
Fennimore. 

“Now, how is your grandfather, Larry?” I 
asked, leaving the most important subject for the 
last. 

“First rate. He says he shall live to be a 
hundred years old. I had a letter from him yes- 
terday, in which he says Miles has given him a 
world of trouble during the winter.” 

“I thought he would,” I added. “I’m afraid 
Miles IS as crazy as his father was.” 


16 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


‘‘They say there is insane blood in the family 
on the mother’s side ; and Miles senior had it bad 
before he died. But Sir Philip writes me that 
Miles has left.” 

“Left?” 

“Gone off in his yacht; sailed, ten days before 
the letter was written, for the West Indies.” 

“That’s a good place for him to go,” I sug- 
gested. 

“Yes; if he has gone there,” replied Larry, 
with a significant look at me. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Phil, the more I think of it, the more I am in- 
clined to make terms with that youth,” answered 
Larry, more seriously than he often spoke. 

“You have no authority or right to make terms 
with him.” 

“I hope the old gentleman wfill give him half 
the estates and half the income ; and as for being 
a baronet, 1 wouldn't give two cents for the 
honor. Miles can have it.” 

“But Sir Philip says it is utterly impossible. 
You can’t make a man a baronet l)y descent who 
isn’t born a baronet. You are the man, and you 
can’t make teims with Miles. You have no right 
to do so.’^ 


THE TRA3IPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


17 


“I have been thinking a great deal of this mat- 
ter, and it has worried me. I stepped in between 
Miles and his expectations ; and it was a tremen- 
dously heavy blow to him. It was rough on 
him.’’ 

“But it was not your fault.” 

“I know that. But I have been considering 
whether I ought not to sink into oblivion, either 
by committing suicide, or burying myself in the 
wilds of Australia, in order to make it all right 
for this unreasonable fellow.” 

“Of course you ought to do nothing of the 
kind. It is not your duty, in any sense of the 
word, to take yourself out of the way. What 
would Blanche do?” 

“That’s where the shoe pinches,” said he, with 
a bright smile. 

“Certainly you cannot think of any such thing 
as suicide, or taking 3’ourself out of the waj".” 

“Suicide is neither comfortable nor pleasant, 
and I shall not do that. It gives a man a bad 
reputation. I have always had an idea that I 
should make my own foilune; and it is rather 
rough on a fellow to have fortune thrust upon 
him in this absurd way. I suppose I could go 
2 


18 


SEA AND SHOKE, OK 


to California, Australia, or some other heathenish 
locality, and achieve a success for myself.’’ 

“‘One bird in the hand is worth two in the 
bush,’ Larry.” 

“Eight! You are a philosopher still, and I’m 
only afraid you will have an ulceration of the 
brain, or some other disease in your upper story, 
if you use it so roughly, Phil.” 

“1 will endeavor to be tender with what brains 
I have, since it is all there is between us.” 

He held out his hand to me, and I took it. He 
shook it gravely, and solemnly bowed his appro- 
bation. 

“Now, be serious, Philip, and apply your share 
of the brains to this question. I hope it won’t 
give you a congestion or an inflammation.” 

“I’m all attention.” 

“What shall I do with Miles?” 

“Nothing.” 

“What will he do with me?” 

“Nothing, I hope.” 

“I’m really worried about the foolish fellow, 
Phil. I used to laugh jit him; but when I think 
how much depends upon his getting me out of the 
way, I don’t like the look to windward. Is that 
perfectly nautical and proper, old Sea Biscuit?” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


19 


“Perfectly.” 

“I don’t like the idea of having Miles touch off 
an earthquake under my feet at any moment, 
when I don’t happen to be thinking of such a 
thing; or of having him fire off a volcano over my 
head; for these things hurt; and, besides, it’s giv- 
ing him a heap of trouble on my account, and sub- 
jecting him to a heavy expense, for these Italian 
bravos don’t work for nothing.” 

“I don’t think you are very much alarmed 
about his machinations.” 

“Machinations!” said Larry, scratching his 
head, and then grasping the great quarto diction- 
ary on the centre-table. 

“From the Latin machinatio^ meaning tricks, 
artifices, plots, conspiracies,” I added, seriously. 

“Thanks. You have saved me the labor of 
looking out the word. I trust your jaws are still 
sound and in working order, for you will dine 
with me to-day.” 

“You will find they arc, for I am half starved 
for some of your fresh, fat New York oysters.” 

“They arc not very severe on the jaws; but, if 
you will hold your jaw, I have a word more about 
Miles. I am really afraid of him.” 


20 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“Knees smiting each other?” 

“Yes.” 

“Each particular hair on end?” 

“Yes; knock my hat off every time I think of 
jfiim. But don’t laugh at my fears. Wherever I 
go, a quaking skeleton pursues me.” 

“Not much.” 

“I should not dare to leave New York, or even 
to stay here, if I had not you to protect me. 
Seriously, I am troubled about Miles.” 

“I do not much wonder. He has proved that 
he has the capacity for any measure of villainy.” 

“ ‘Any measure of villainy,’ ” repeated Larry, 
slowly. “Could you tell me where, in Shake- 
speare, I can find that sentence — play, act, 
scene ?” 

“I don’t know that it is in Shakespeare at all.” 

“I was in hopes it was, for it is rather a telling 
phrase, and exactly expresses iny mind. ‘Capable 
of any measure of villainy.’ ” 

“That’s so.” 

“Miles intends to shoot, drown, hang, smother, 
decapitate, garrote, burn, or destroy me if he can. 
‘To be or not to l^e,’ seems to be the question 
with me. Assassins lurk in my path — not in 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


21 


Shakespeare, or the Comic Almanac, so far as I 
know. Don't you think I had better retire from 
pnldic life, and shut myself up in a monastery, 
Phil?” 

“Not at present.” 

I could not tell whether he had any real fears 
of Miles or not. 

“Nev^er mind it now. It’s an unpleasant sub- 
ject, and we will drop it. The yacht is off the 
foot of Fourteenth Street; and I asked Blanche 
and her friends to take a sail in her this after- 
noon. Of course you will go.” 

“To be sure I will. I am dying to see the 
craft.” 

“Don’t die yet. Captain Spelter says she is 
the best thing in New York harbor. I have had 
her put in first-rate condition, painted, papered, 
and varnished.” 

“Papered?” 

“Well, I’m no sailor. I had her fixed up; but 
I haven’t the least idea what was done to her. I 
suppose they papered her.” 

“Perhaps they did.” 

“I had her newly furnished, and her cabin is a 
perfect palace. If she don’t sail well, with such 
a cabin, it won’t be my fault.” 


22 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“What has the furniture in the cabin to do with 
her sailing?” 

“I haven’t the least idea,” replied Lairy, with 
a blank look. “Then, she has a new suit of sailsj 
fitted by an up-town tailor, I suppose.” 

“Of course.” 

“Captain Spelter said they fitted well. Then 
I had new halyards on the bowsprit, six new 
spanker booms, four new hatchways^ seven new 
top-gallant jib-stays, eleven new top-bobbin sky- 
scrapers, and a dozen and a half of foreto’-])ow- 
lines on the cro’-jack catharpings, besides a lot of 
other things, whose names I can’t remember.” 

“Your memory seems to serve you remarkably 
well, Larry.” 

“I have a good memory, Avhen I don’t strain it. 
I paid for so much running rigging tl)at I think 
we ought to run away from anything that fioats.” 

“I hope she is safe and Weatherly.” 

“O, she is. Captain Spelter says she keeps all 
the water outside of her.” 

“Who is Captain Spelter?” I asked. 

“He was her skipper last year. He is salt 
enough to pickle a hundred ])arrels of salt junk. 
Is that the sea slang for corned beef?” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


23 


‘^All right/’ 

“It always makes me thirsty to go near him.’" 

“Have you engaged Captain Spelter?” I in- 
quired. 

“Certainly not. He was out of a job: I em- 
ployed him to superintend the lixing up, painting, 
papering, and getting in the jaw tackle, putting 
on the barnacles, and adjusting the dead-lights.” 

“Just so.” 

“He wants to go in her; but I gently intimated 
that my friend and fellow-soldier, fellow-sailor, 
and brother salt. Captain Philip Farringford, was 
to command the Blanche. Then he wanted to go 
as prime minister, grand vizier, chancellor of the 
exchequer, or something of that sort.” 

“As mate, you mean.” 

“That Avasn’t the slang he used,” replied my 
friend, scratching his head. “It was chief ex- 
ecutioner, I think.” 

“I think not.” 

“Executive officer — that’s the slang.” 

“That’s rather a high-sounding title for a 
yacht.” 

“Precisely my idea; but, then, I am no sailor/* 

“Did you engage him?” 


24 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“Not I, my hecarty? I told him to heave to on 
the foreto ’-bobbin. I was too old a salt to engage 
any officer without the knowledge of the high and 
mighty chief captain of the Blanche, my hearty. 
You see, Phil, he thinks you are a sort of a mud- 
puddle salt, that don’t know the bob-scuttle from 
the top-gallant spanker boom; and I didn’t let on. 
I suppose you want a chief executioner, or some 
such bummer — don’t you?” 

“We want a mate.’' 

“We do, and we’ll have a mate, or die in the 
struggle to obtain one. Don’t have Captain Spel- 
ter, if you don’t want him. There’s sea slang 
enough in him to fit out the entire mercantile 
marine of the nation. But I have engaged about 
a dozen sailors, because they were good fellows, 
and I didn’t want to lose them.” 

“All right.” 

“If you don’t like them, you can knock them 
overboard with the main royal bobstay, you know. 
But come to dinner.” 

Wo dined on oysters. 


THE TKAMFS OF A TRAVELLER. 


25 


CHAPTER II. 


IN WHICH PHIL AND LARRY GO ON BOARD OF THE 
BLANCHE. 

N epicure in oysters, living in the great 



jL\. west, may become very hungry for the 
pure, fresh article. I was. Of course the flavor 
was twice as good because my devoted friend was 
with me, for the savor of friendship adds itself to 
the food. We went to the foot of West Four- 
teenth Street, where Larry made a signal with his 
handkerchief to the Blanche, which lay but a short 
distance from the shore. A boat with four oars 
immediately put off from her, and pulled, man-of- 
war stroke, to the pier. In the stern-sheets, hold- 
ing the tiller lines, was an elderly man in blue 
uniform. 

“Way enough,” said he, as the boat approached 
tlie pier. 


26 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


The bowman promptly boated his oar with the 
others, and sprang forward with his boat-hook. I 
saw that the crew were well-trained, and those be- 
fore me looked like first-class men. 

“Captain Spelter, Captain Farringford; Captain 
Farringford, Captain Spelter,” said Larry, as the 
skipper leaped upon the pier. 

“Ah, this young man,” replied Captain Spelter, 
as he took my offered hand. “I’m glad to see 
you. Captain Farringford.” 

“Happy to know you. Captain Spelter,” I an- 
swered. 

There was a broad grin on his face, and I saw 
that he was measiiiing me from head to foot. He 
evidently considered me utterly incompetent, from 
the lack of years, to fill the position to which I 
had been appointed. 

“Heave ahead, my hearty,” said Larry, as he 
jumped into the boat. “Is the foreto’-bobbin all 
right. Captain Spelter?” 

“All right, sir,” replied the skipper, with a 
broad grin, for he appeared fully to appreciate the 
humor of his employer. 

“Have you boused the bobstay, and topped up 
the binnacle?” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


27 


“Yes, sir; all done in man-of-war style,” an- 
swered the skipper, with a sly wink at me. 

“Come, Phil, tumble down the hatchway into 
the boat. Our party will be down here at three 
o’clock, and we must have all the booms and bob- 
stays overhauled before that time.” 

I seated myself opposite him on the crimson 
plush cushions in the stern-sheets while Captain 
Spelter took his place on the aftermost seat, at the 
tiller ropes. 

“Up oars!” said he. “Shove off! Let fall! 
Give way together! ” and the men pulled steadily, 
feathering their oars very handsomely at every 
stroke. 

“1 say, Phil, how’s this for high ? Is the foreto’- 
bobbin all right?” 

“I should judge that it was. You have your 

* 

crew well in hand.” 

“Ay, ay, sir,” replied Larry, gravely. “We 
have laid ourselves out on this business; and we 
have the fore to ’-bobbin so that it works first rate. 
There is our craft;” and he pointed to the 
Blanche. “Isn’t she a thing of beauty that is a 
joy forever?” 

“I think she is. She looks like a fine craft.” 


28 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


‘‘She is a beauty, Captain Farringford,” added 
the skipper. 

Certainly nothing could have been more elegant 
or graceful than the yacht, as she sat like a swan 
upon the water. She had been newly painted, and 
looked fresh and clean. Much of her rigging was 
new, and everything was hauled taut, so that she 
was a model of neatness; and I had a very favora- 
able opinion of Captain Spelter’s ability; much 
more so, evidently, than he had of mine. She had 
accommodation steps at her side, so that we went 
on deck with as little trouble as we could have en- 
tered a house on Fifth Avenue. 

“Once more on the deck I stand of my own 
swift-gliding craft,” said Larry; “only I never 
happened to glide any in her yet. Captain Spelter 
has been on a short cruise in her, to see that the 
foreto ’-bobbin was all right.” 

I examined everything on deck and aloft with a 
critical eye, and was entirely satisfied with her ap- 
pearance. Everything was in its place, and every 
rope handsomely coiled away. The rest of the 
sailors were on deck, and eyed us with respectful 
curiosity. 

“What do you think of her, Phil ?” asked Larry. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


20 


“I think she is magnificent; and a fellow that 
couldn’t be happy in a craft like this ought to be 
shut up ill a monastery.” 

“Just so; and be compelled to live on roast 
beef, roast turkey, and plum jiudding, and omelet 
souffle. She is a regular marine sylph. Do you 
see that dolphin-striker, Phil?” demanded he, 
pointing at the main boom. 

“I don’t see it.” 

“Nor I either. Come below;” and he led the 
way into the cabin. 

This apartment was high and roomy for a yacht. 
There were two berths on each side, with elegant 
draperies in front of them, which could be drawn 
out so as to form a little enclosed space in front 
of each berth, answering to the purposes of a state- 
room. The floor was carpeted with tapestry vel- 
vet, and the captain said there was a cloth to 
cover it at sea. In the centre was a table, which 
could be extended so as to seat ten persons. 
Over it was a large skylight, which admitted light 
enough to give the cabin a very cheerful aspect. 
All around it was a divan, or sofa, covered with 
green velvet, which was the prevailing color of all 
the furniture and draperies. Various ornaments 


30 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


H^ere put up in available spaces, and vases, filled 
tvith green-house flowers, were arranged about 
them for the present occasion. In the middle of 
the bulkhead was a passage leading forward. On 
the left of it was the owner’s state-room, an ele- 
gxant little room, furnished in bright blue, with a 
berth wide enough for two. It was provided with 
every convenience known in a modern yacht, with 
all those ingenious little contrivances for saving 
space, which the limits of such a vessel demand. 
Forward of this was another state-room, whose 
door opened into the passage-way. It was not less 
elegant than the owner’s, but the berth was not so 
wdde, and thus space was obtained for a desk and 
case of drawers. Like the other, it was well 
lighted from the deck, and was supplied with pat- 
ent ventilators. This room was intended for the 
owner’s favored guest; but Larry told me it was 
to be mine for our next cruise. 

The first room on the starboard side, next to 
the cabin, was the pantry, which contained mar- 
vels of ingenuity for the disposition of the table 
ware, and for preparing the delicacies for the 
meals. Forward of this was the cook-room, an 
apartment twelve feet long by eight in width, with 


THE TRAMPS. OF A TRAVELLER. 


31 


a stove, and every other convenience. At the 
forward end of it was a door, opening into the 
larder, which was really an ice-house. From this 
room we passed into a short passage leading for- 
ward. On the opposite side was a third state-room, 
containing two berths, which Avas iiitend(id for the 
skipper of the yacht. In the forecastle the berths 
Avere rather crowded, for some of them Avere three 
in a tier; but there Avas abundant space for twenty 
men, as they Avere accommodated on shipboard. 
Everything Avas as well as it could be in the lim- 
ited space. 

“Now, hoAV do you like her, Phil?” asked 
Larry, after avc had completed the examination. 

“She is perfectly magnificent. Her accommo- 
dations are as good as those of a palace,” I replied, 
with enthusiasm. “She exceeds any idea I ever 
had of a yacht. We shall be as happy as lords in 
her.” 

“I hope so. We have a first-rate cook and two 
stewards, and Ave may feed as well as they do on 
an ocean steamer.” 

“No doubt of it. And I think she Avill make 
your purse SAveat, too.” 

“I hope she Avill. Why, I paid for her, and three 


32 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


thousand more for new sails, repairs, and altera- 
tions, without making any extra drafts on Sir 
Philip. And I am not spending all my income yet. 
I can run her for a whole year on what is left of 
my allowance, and have something to spare then. 
But I must go for the ladies,” said he, glancing, 
at his watch. 

We went on deck, and Larry departed in 
the boat, leaving Captain Spelter and myself on 
board . 

“And so you are to command this yacht, sir,” 
said the skipper, eying me again from head to 
foot. 

“That is the arrangement I made with Mr. 
Grimsby,” I replied. 

“Of course you know that you have undertaken 
a big job.” 

“I don’t know about that. I shall try to do the 
best I can.” 

“I had her last year,” added he. 

“And you wanted her this year, I dare say. ” 

“Of course I did; but then, Mr. Grimsby told 
me he had engaged a sailing-master.” 

“What wages did you get last season?” I 
asked. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


33 


“A hundred dolhirs a month, for the season.” 

“How long were you employed?” 

“Six months.” 

“AVhat do you do the rest of the year?’ ’ 

“Not much of anything; only odd jobs, as 1 hnd 
them. But I don’t make a living the rest of the 
year.” 

“How much do you want for the whole 
year?” 

“I ought to have a hundred dollars a month.” 

“That is more than I get.” 

“I should like to go to foreign parts, and I 
am willing to go for a year for less, if the yacht 
finds me all the time.” 

“It finds all hands. If you will go mate for 
eight hundred dollars for the year, all right.” 

“Well, I don’t make half that in the clear,” 
said Captain Spelter, musing. “ITl go.” 

“Very well; consider yourself engaged,” I re- 
plied. 

“But what is to be my position?” 

“Mate,” I answered. 

“Shall you keep a watch yourself. Captain Far- 
ringford?” • 

“That point is not settled yet.” 

3 


34 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“I don't like to play second fiddle," added he. 

“Don’t do it, then." 

“But I want the place and the pay." 

“Do as you like about taking them." 

I saw that he had something in his mind which 
he did not like to utter; l)ut 1 understood him just 
as well as though he had spoken out. He did 
not like to play second fiddle to a youngster like 
me, was his idea. And when I looked at his iron- 
gray hair and bronzed face, I did not l)lame him. 
Pr()bal)ly he supposed that the entire charge of the 
yacht Avould devolve on him ; that he would ac- 
tually sail her, while I took all the credit of it. 
He doubtless regarded me as a fancy captain, who 
would live in the cabin and amuse the owner, while 
he did all the hard work, and kept his watch on 
deck in a voyage across the Atlantic. He looked 
me over again from head to foot, and there was 
something rather contemptious in his expression. 

“Of course I can do as I like," said he; “but 
I should like to know how I stand on board. Am I 
to be the actual sailing-master?" 

“No, sir, you are not. I am to be the actual 
sailing-master," I replied, gently. 

“Do you think you can take the yacht across 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


35 


the Atlantic?’’ he asked, with a kind of incredu- 
lous smile. “It’s a big undertaking.” 

“If I could not, of course I should not accept 
the situation I have taken.” 

“But you expect to have a capable mate.” 

“Certainly; one capable of doing a mate’s 
duty.” 

“One who can navigate the vessel, you mean.” 

“No; I do not mean that. I mean a mate’s 
duty.” 

“Have you ever navigated a vessel?” 

“I have.” 

“Oh ! all right, then, ” said he, with evident sur-- 
prise. 

“If I don’t keep my watch on deck, there will 
be a second mate to do it for me.” 

“I’m satisfied.” 

“So am I. And now, as we are to sail, we will 
go to work. Set the mainsail and the foresail, and 
heave up the anchor to a short stay,” I continued. 

My orders were promptly obeyed; but I saw 
that Mr. Spelter — as ho must be called in his po- 
sition as mate — was on the lookout to catch mo in 
a blunder. The Blanche was just like any other 
yacht, and I knew her from keel to truck. By the 


3G 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


time we had the fore and mainsail set, and the an- 
chor hove short, the party from the shore came 
alongside. 

“Why, Mr. Farringford, I am so glad to see 
you!” exclaimed Blanche Fennimore, as I helped 
her up the accommodation steps. 

“And I am just as glad to sec you,” I replied, 
grasping her little gloved hand. 

“This is a^vcry unexpected pleasure. Do you 
know, that queer Larry did not tell me you were 
here, Mr. Farringford?” 

“Captain Farringford, if you please, Blanche. 
He is the skipper of this mighty craft.” 

“I knew he was to go with you ; but you did )iot 
tell me he had arrived.” 

“It was only to surprise you. He has arrived, 
I’ll tell you now. See, the conquering ski^Dper 
comes.” 

“As I am skipper, you must excuse me for a 
time,” I added. 

“Certainly.” 

“Take i:i those steps; hoist up the boat to the 
davits. Forward, there I heave up the anchor, and 
stand by the jib-halyards,” I continued. 

“Ay, ay, sir,” replied the hands forward, as Mr. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


37 


Spelter went to the forecastle to superintend the 
execution of my orders. 

“Bravo, Phil! ” said Larry. “Now top up the 
foreto’-bobhin, and take a double reef in the fly- 
ing jib-boom.” 

“Anchor away, sir!” shouted Mr. Spelter. 

“Hoist the jib!” I replied. “Meet her with 
the helm! Starboard!” 

The hands forward ran up the iib, and the 
Blanche slowly gathered headway. 

“Stand by fore and main sheet! ” I continued, 
and two seamen hastened to each of the stations 
indicated, while the rest, under the charge of the 
mate, secured the anchor. “Ease oft* the fore and 
main sheets!” 

The wind was about west, and wo had it on the 
beam. A stiff old quartermaster was at the wheel, 
and the Blanche went off beautifully . I had nothing 
more to do at present, and Larry introduced me to 
the little party he had invited, all of whom, except 
Blanche, were strangers to me. Requesting the 
mate to take charge of the deck, I went below 
with them. I think Spelter was rather surprised, 
and disappointed, to find I was able to get the 
yacht under way without asking his advice; but 


^8 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


he behaved very well; and, if he had any ill feel- 
ing, he suppressed it. The party examined every 
part of the yacht Avith interest, and were delighted 
Avith her. We Avent down to Sandy Hook, and 
had a very pleasant excursion, Avhich I do not in- 
tend to describe. On our return we anchored off 
the Battery, about sunset, near another yacht, 
someAvhat larger than the Blanche, flying the Eng- 
lish flag. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


39 


CHAPTER HI. 


fN WHICH PHIL ENGAGES A SECOND MATE FOR 
THE BLANCHE. 



HAT yacht is that, Mr. Spelter?” I asked, 


after he had come to anchor, and furled 


the sails. 

“I don’t know, sir; I never saw her before. 
She’s English, but she is a fine craft,” replied the 
mate. “She must have come in to-day, for she 
wasn’t here yesterday.” 

“Can vou make out her name?” 

«/ 



“I should like to know something more about 
her,” I added. “Get out a boat, if you please, 
and ascertain her name.” 

The mate sent one of the two quartermasters 
on this errand, and I went below — ivhere our 
party had retired when the yacht came to anchor—* 
to partake of a collation. 


40 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“Come, Captain Phil raningford, we are wait- 
ing for you,” said Larry. “Take your place at 
the head of the table, where you belong.” 

“1 am willing to yield that place to you, for I 
believe the sailing-master of a yacht don’t always 
mess at the hrst table in the cabin.” 

“He does here. Take your place. You are the 
Grand Mogul here.” 

I seated myself in the place indicated, and Larry 
occupied the next scat on the right. The collation 
was in keeping with the yacht, and the cook and 
stewards had evidently spread themselves to the 
utmost on this occasion, for, besides hot oysters, 
cooked ill all styles, there were boned turkey, 
ham, tongue, salads, ice-creams, coffee, tea, and 
chocolate. Everything was as nice as it could 
have been at Delmonico’s. The two stewards, in 
their white jackets and aprons, were all atten- 
tion. 

“Did you notice that yacht on our starboard 
bow, Larry?” I asked, when everyliody had been 
helped, and the rough edge of the appetite, stimu- 
lated by the sea air, had been taken off. 

“On our starboard bow!” exclaimed Larry. 
“Good gracious! Why didn’t you call all 
hands, and shake her off?” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


41 


“Seriously, Larry,” I added, in a low tone. 

“Seriously, I don’t want another vessel on the 
starboard bow of my yacht; she will rub the paint 
off, and damage the foreto ’-bobbin.” 

“I think you have spun that bobbin about 
enough. It isn’t nautical, Larry.” 

“Xot nautical! You shock me! Being the 
owner of a yacht, 1 deemed it necessary to be a 
little salt in my remarks, and make an occasional 
allusion to the skysail Ijooin and the maintop gal- 
lant l)obstay. The old figure of speech about ‘tak- 
ing a reef in the stove-pipe’ I discarded as antique, 
and inapplicable to a nobby yacht like the Blanche, 
where stove-pipes don’t prevail much, though it 
answers very well for a canal-boat, or a Mi3sissip[)i 
flat-boat.” 

“Did you notice the yacht near us, Larry?” 

“ ’Poll my word, I did not, Phil. Having a cap- 
tain, mate, and all hands, I can’t waste my ener' 
gies in that direction.’ 

“She is English.” 

“Ah? And do you think slic has any wicked 
intention of sailing a regatta with me, and mali- 
ciously beating me?” 

“I don’t know about that; lint, seeing an Eng- 


42 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


lish yacht here reminded me of your grandfather’s 
letter. ” 

“There seems to be a very close connection be- 
tween them. But, perhaps, Phil, if you have any- 
thing to say, it will be just as well to say it.” 

“I sent a boat to ascertain the name of the Eng- 
lish yacht.” 

“Did you? That was a very laudable curiosity 
on your part.” 

“Do you happen to know the name of Miles 
Grimsby’s yacht?” 

“Undoubtedly I do. I saw the craft at Bristol, 
and committed to memory her name.” 

“I am very glad you took so much pains. Here 
is Mr. Spelter; and probably the boat has returned, 
with the name of the yacht,” I added, as the mate 
entered the cabin. 

“That yacht is the White wing, of Bristol,” said 
Spelter. 

“Thank you,” I replied. 

“That's a very pretty name, and I should have 
chosen it myself, if my yacht had not been already 
suitably named,” replied Larry, without even a 
start, or any other indication of surprise. 

I saw that he did not wish to talk of the matter 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


43 


before tlie present company, and I permitted it to 
drop. After the collation both of the boats were 
brought lip to the accommodation steps, to convey 
the party on shore. As we were alioiit to embark, 
a shore boat came alongside, and a man in a sea- 
man’s dress stepped upon the deck. He asked for 
the captain, and was conducted to me by the mate. 
I judged that he was not a common sailor, for his 
manners indicated some familiarity with good so- 
ciety. 

“This man has been to me, and wants to ship; 
but, as I did not kiuw him, I couldn’t engage 
him,” said Spelter. 

“I’m hard up,” said the applicant; “and though 
I got out of the forecastle years ago, I’m willing to 
take any lay you can give me. I have sailed as 
mate and sailing-master of an English yacht up the 
Mediterranean, up the Baltic, and made a summer 
cruise up to the North Sea.” 

“I haven’t time to talk with you now, but! will 
be on board to-morrow forenoon at ten,” I replied. 

“Thank you, sir,” answered. the applicant, po- 
litely touching his cap. “I will be on board at 
that time.” 

I rather liked the looks of the man, and I thought 


u 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


his experience in European waters would be of 
service to us. He was a])out forty years of age, 
and used good language, though he tripped a little 
on his h s. I went ashore with the party, aiul, 
after Larry had escorted Blanche home, I met him 
again at his rooms. 

“Do you know the name of that English yacht 
off the Battery?” I asked, the moment he came in. 

“I do; but I didn’t wish Blanche to know that 
Miles Grimsby was within two hundred feet of her. 
It would frighten her out of her wits. The White- 
wing is Miles’s yacht, without a doubt; and she 
didn’t go to the West Indies. I hadn’t any idea 
that she would,” replied Larry. 

“And you suppose that Miles’s errand in the 
United States relates to you?” 

“No doubt of it. The fellow is a monomaniac 
on the subject of his wrongs, regards me is (ns evil 
genius, and, no doubt, considers it perfectlv jusliti- 
abJe to put me out of the wny in any manner that 
seems convenient to him, 'without any respect 
whatever to my convenience.” 

“1 do not see what he can do, if you are ordina- 
rily prudent, and keep out of his way.” 

“My self-respect won’t allow me to keep out of 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


45 


his way. I can’t go through the world dodging 
and shrinking from any man. He is my enemy; 
he has hoisted his colors, and is ready to kill, i)urn, 
and destroy me. Phil, 1 want to be a Christian to- 
wards him.” 

“Certainly; I know you would not injure him.” 

“I would do more than that; I would bo his 
friend, if he would let me. If he were in trouble, 
I would help him out,” said Larry, warmly. 

“That is the right spirit.” 

“Now, as he is here, I intend to see him, and as- 
certain what he wants. If I can make an arrange- 
ment with him, I will do so. I will induce Sir 
Philip to give him and his sisters a fair half of all 
the property; and, as for the title, I am wdling he 
should have ihat, if there is any way by which 
they can slij) it by me. I will see him to-mor- 
row. I’m not afraid of him. I pity him more than 
I fear him.” 

“You are perfectly fair, Larry.” 

“I mean to be; and I shall make a strong effort 
to have Miles take a reasonable view of the situa- 
tion. Now, when shall we sail for Europe?” 

“As soon as you are ready. I suppose we can 
get off in a day or two.” 


46 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“We need not hurry. But you may get every- 
thing on board, except the fresh provisions, at 
once.” 

“How many seamen are Ave to have?” I asked. 

“A hundred, if you want them.” 

“Sixteen Avill make it a very easy thing for all 
hands.” 

“Sixteen it is, then. We have tAvelve.” 

“Yes ; and splendid men they are, too. Am I to 
keep a Avatch, or not?” 

“How should I know?” laughed Larry. “I 
want you to make it as easy as you can for your- 
self. Of course I expect you to go with me on 
shore whenever I go.” 

“Then Ave need a second officer; and very likely 
that Englishman that applied yesterday is just the 
man. I shall see him to-morroAV.” 

“Perhaps he is another Cuore,” suggested 
Larry, alluding to the Italian who had been the 
agent of Miles Grimsby in Europe the year be- 
fore. “Very likely he came over in the White- 
wing. ” 

“No; he Avas on board of the Blanche several 
days ago, before the Whitewing arrived,” 1 re- 
plied. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


47 


We spent the evening in talking over our plans 
for the future. I proposed a trip up the Baltic for 
the summer months, and up the Mediterranean for 
the winter ones, upon which I had studied a great 
deal before I left home. Larry and 1 had been 
studying German during the winter, and he pro- 
posed to take a German with us, and continue the 
lessons on the voyage. We wrote an advertise- 
ment for such a person, which appeared in the 
Herald and Times the next morning. 

After breakfast, the next day, we went on board 
of the Blanche. Spelter was directed to ship four 
more sailors, and the steward to purchase his 
stores and provisions for a long cruise. At the 
time appointed, the Englishman came on board. 

“How do you like the looks of that man, Mr. 
Spelter?” I inquired, when I recognized him in 
the boat. 

“First rate. I had some talk with him, and I 
know that he is a good seaman,” replied the mate. 

“Do you think he would make a good second 
officer?” 

“I have no doubt he would. He has been the 
sailing-master of an English yacht.” 

The man came on board and saluted me politely 


48 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


and deferentially, in spite of his age and my youth. 
I invited him to the cabin, where we seated our- 
selves at the table. 

“Your name, if you please,” I began. 

“Henry Osborne. I am from Cowes, in the Isle 
of Wight, and have been among yachts nearly all 
my life,” he answered. 

“Have you ever been in anything except a 
yacht?” 

“Yes, sir. I made one voyage to India, and 
came home as second mate, when 1 was nineteen. 
Then I went to China as second mate, and made a 
voyage to Barbadoes as first mate. After working 
on shore lv)r five years, I was mate of Lord Gilfly- 
er’s yacht, and went for eleven seasons as sailing- 
master of several yachts. ” 

“You seem to have had plenty of experience.” 

“Enough to be better oft’ than I am,” he an- 
swered. 

“Why did you leave England?” 

“I may as well own it, sir. I got to taking a 
drop too much, once in a Avhile; and, as no one 
would give mo a position as sailing-master, I went 
as mate then.” 

“You don’t look like a drinking man,” I replied, 
rather startled by his honest confession. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


49 


“I lijiven't tasted liquor for six months, sir. 
The liquor is so bad in America, I couldn’t drink it 
if I would; but I have no wish to do so.” 

“No liquor is served out on this yacht, and I 
will not keep a man who is intemperate,” I added, 
squarely. 

“I intend to be a sober man to the day of my 
death. I don’t drink at all now. Being among 
the gentlemen, with so much wine and brandy 
about, I got into a bad way. But, with the help of 
God, I’ll drink no more, sir. It ruined me. And 
when I could only ship before the mast at home, 
I came out to America, last autumn. I could not 
go before the mast ; and I had plenty of recommen- 
dations from the finest gentlemen in England, who 
gave them to me before I took to drinking. But 
in the winter I could only get a situation as a por- 
ter in a store. I left my place to go as sailing-mas- 
ter in a yacht a month ago, and spent all my money 
in fitting myself out for the position. Then the 
owner of the yacht failed in business, and my 
chance was gone. I have no money now to pay 
my board, and my landlady holds my luggage as 
security for it.” 

“For what yacht were you engaged?” I asked. 
4 


50 


8EA AND SHORE, OR 


“Indeed, I don’t know her name; hiit she was 
to sail out of Baltimore, and her owner’s name was 
Mr. McVicker,” he replied, consulting some pa- 
pers which he carried in his pocket. 

“Well, Mr. Osborne, I cannot offer you a posi- 
tion as sailing-master, or even as mate, but we 
need a second mate.” 

“I am willing to take any place, sir; for I’m 
hard up.” 

“This is- the owner, Mr. Grimsby,” I added, as 
Larry came out of his state-room. “Mr. Osborne.” 

The applicant rose from his seat, and bowed low 
to Larry. 

“What wages do you want, Mr. Osborne?” I 
continued. 

“I will leave that to you, sir.” 

“What shall I say, Mr. Grimsby?” 

“Six hundred a year. That’s little enough to 
give a Christian. ill these times.” 

‘ ‘Thank you, sir. That’s very handsome ; more 
than I got at home,” replied Osborne, with a 
smile. 

“Then consider yourself engaged,” I added. 

“I am very grateful to you, Mr. Grimsby, and 
to you. Captain Farringford.” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


51 


“All right.” 

“I beg your pardon, sir; but might I beg the 
favor of a small advance, to enable me to procure 
my luggage?” 

“Let him have a mouth’s pay,” said Larry, 
promptly, as he gave him the money. 

“Thank you, sir, ” replied Osborne; “you have 
done me a very great favor.” 

“By the way, do you know this English yacht 
that lies near us?” 1 asked. 

“It’s the Whitewing, sir; I saw her at Cowes, 
last summer ; but I was never on board of her. 
It was said the owner of her was crazy,” answered 
Osborne; “but I never saw him. ” 

“Wasn’t it the owner’s father who was crazy?” 
inquired Larry. 

“Very likely that was what the story came 
from. But I have forgotten his name.” 

The new second mate left the yacht, and Larry 
and I paid a visit to the Whitewing; but Miles 
was not on board. We repeated the call every 
day for a Aveek, without finding him. The sailing- 
master said he had gone to Washington, but his 
return Avas daily expected. 

We shipped our four men, and in a Aveek Ave 


52 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


were ready to sail , only waiting to see Miles. We 
had plenty of applications from teachers of Ger- 
man, and engaged one who had been a clergyman, 
and a missionary in Egypt. He spoke English, 
French, and Arabic fluently, according to his tes- 
timonials, and appeared to be an excellent man 
besides. He was poor, and wanted to get homo 
to Germany. He Avas Avilling to serve ns Avithout 
pay; but Larry agrec'd to give him fifty dollars a 
month, Avith a berth in the cabin. Osborne came 
on board the day ho Avas engaged, and the tAvo 
mates occupied the foiward state-room together. 
He Av^as an exceedingly pleasant man, a good sea- 
man, and a competent navigator. Larry moved 
his library on board, and our baggage Avas in our 
state-rooms. We made another excursion doAvn 
the bay Avith Blanche and her friends, and Ave had 
decided to sail the next day, Avhether Miles re- 
turned or not. We came np to the city early in 
the afternoon ; Larry Avent home Avith Blanche, and 
bade her adieu, for Ave had arranged to sail early 
in the morning. When he ctime on board, the 
Whitevving seemed to be getting under Avay; her^ 
foresail and mainsail Avere set; and Ave concluded 
that Miles had returned. 



Miles Grimsby visits the Blanche. Page 53. 







THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


53 


CHAPTER IV. 

tN WHICH LARRY VISITS THE WHITE WING, AND PHIL 
GETS THE BLANCHE UNDER AVAY. 

HILE we Avere considering the intentions 



▼ T of the Whitewiiig, a boat put off from 
her, and pulled towards the r)lanche. In the 
stern-sheets Ave recognized Miles Grimsby in a 
Scotch cap. He Avas paler and thinner than Avhen 
I had last seen him, and his imaginary wrongs 
had apparently Aveighed heavily upon his spirits. 
The boat ran up to the accommodation steps, and 
Miles came upon deck. Larry stepped forward to 
meet him, and extended his hand, Avhich was ac- 
cepted, though apparently Avith some doubts and 
misgivings. I bowed to him, but he took no 
notice of me. 

“I understand from my sailing-master that you 
have been on board of the WhitcAvins: several 
times to see me,” said Miles; and his utterance 
was choked and difficult. 


54 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


‘‘I do wish to see you very much,” replied 
Larry. “I am even in hopes that we can make 
an arrangement of family matters which shall be 
satisfactory to you.” 

“I am willing to meet you alone,” added Miles, 
glancing at me. 

‘‘Entirely alone, if you desire it. Will you 
come into the cabin?” 

“Pardon me, but I prefer that our meeting shall 
be in the cabin of the White wing, where we shall 
be subject to no possible interruption,” answered 
Miles, glancing at me again. 

“I assure j^oii, Mr. Grimsby, I will not interrupt 
you.” 

“I always find myself at a disadvantage when 
I attempt to converse with both of you, and I de- 
sire to be entirely alone with you, Lawrence.” 

“Just as you please. Miles,” added Larry. 
“Phil is my particular friend, and knows all 
about our affairs, as you are aware.” 

“For that reason I desire to meet you, if at 
all, on equal terms. The interview is of your 
seeking, not mine.” 

“It is, Miles; we are own cousins, and 1 don’t 
wish to live at war with you. If there is any 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


55 


possible chance to make peace, I wish to bury 
the hatchet. I will do anything that is right and 
reasonable.” 

“Your views of what is right and reasonable 
are probably very different from mine, and I 
doubt whether it is of any use for us to discuss 
the matter,” said Miles, who certainly appeared 
to be more pliable than 1 had ever seen him 
before. 

“It can do no harm to talk over the matter.” 

“Very well; if you will go on board of the 
Whitewing with me, my boat shall return with 
yon when you are ready.” 

“I will go with you with pleasure, since you de- 
sire it,”rei)lied Larry, glancing at me, to see if I 
approved his decision. “But you seem to be 
getting under way.” 

“I intended to go to sea to-night, but it is not 
at all important that I should do so.” 

“Sir Philip wrote me that you were going to 
the West Indies.” 

“He was quite right. I thought to sail for 
. Bermuda and the West Indies to-night, and return 
to the States when the hot weather came on,” 
replied Miles, in what seemed to be an unneces- 


50 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


sarily loud tone, as Larry stood close by him; and 
I judged that the reply was intended for niy in- 
formation quite as much as for that of my friend. 
‘‘Are you ready, Lawrence?’’ 

“Quite ready; but as the evening is cool, I will 
take my over-coat,” answered Larry, descending 
the steps into the cabin. 

“Don’t you go, Larry,” I said, earnestly, as I 
followed him into the cabin. 

“Why not, Phil?” he asked, with a laugh. 

“I wouldn’t ti’ust him.” 

“But I am hardly going out of your sight, 
my boy.” 

“You know that he is treacherous, Larry.” 

“But he’ll not attempt any foul play right here 
in New York harbor.” 

“He’ll attempt it anywhere, if there is ^ chance 
of success. He has no more idea of going to the 
West Indies than I have. He came to New York 
to see you.” 

“Very likely he did; but the idea of declining 
to go on board of his yacht here in port, and close 
by my own vessel, is absurd, Phil.^ ^Vhy , I should - 
be ashamed of myself all the rest of my days, if 
I were so weak and childish,”^ replied Larry, 
lightly. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


57 


I knew it was useless to talk, and so I did not 
talk any more. Besides, I had not much confi- 
dence in my own position, for my objections 
seemed to me to be rather ridiculous. I should 
certainly have gone myself, if I had been in 
his place. 

‘‘Go if you will, Larry; but carry this with 
you,’’ I added, taking his small revolver from its 
case ill his room. “Put it in your pocket; it is 
loaded and ready for use.” 

“You don’t think I would shoot him — do you, 
my Christian friend?” added Larry, as he took 
the weapon. 

“Not unless your own life depends upon your 
action.” 

“This is all nonsense; but I will take the thino: 
to oblige you. I don’t think I would use it to 
save my own life.” 

“I hope you will not have occasion to consider 
the question whether or not you will use it; yet 
even the very exhibition of it may be a stronger 
argument than any other you cnn use.” 

He had a pair of revolvers in his room, and 
without any very definite purpose in my mind, I 
put the other into my own pocket. We had slept 


58 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


on board two or three nights, rather for the 
novelty of the idea, than for any other reason; 
and New York at that time had more than its 
usual quota of the dangerous classes, and severj l 
vessels had been robbed, one of them forcibly, 
two of the olBcers being severely injured in the 
alfray with the thieves. We had loaded the pis- 
tols for such a possible occasion. When I put 
one of them into my pocket, I don’t know that 
I intended anything more than to carry it into 
my room when I went, as I had done before. W e 
went on deck, and Larry got into the boat, in 
which his cousin was already seated. It was 
nearly dark when the boat shoved otF, and I 
watched it till the two cousins went on board 
of the White wing. 

I felt very anxious abc.ut my friend, even while 
it seemed absurd to me to entertain any fears 
for his safety. New York harbor was as lively 
tis usual. Sail-boats and row-boats were moving 
about in every direction, tug-boats were shooting 
here and there, and an occasional large steamer- 
caused the yachts to bob up and down in the 
surges produced by its wheels. The revenue 
cutter lay near, and the scene was almost as 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


59 


lively as Broadway itself. I eoiild not believe that 
even Miles Grimsby would be so crazy as to at- 
tempt any treachery under such circumstances. 
Still I kept my eye on the Whitewiug until only 
her dark outline could be seen in the gloom of the 
night. 

“An uncommon fast sailer is that yacht,” said 
Osborne, as he paused at the standing-room, where 
I was seated. “She sailed around the Isle of AV ight 
ill a race, and took the first prize; but the wind 
was very light, and the knowing ones said she 
;ould do nothing in heavy weather.” 

“She must have had some heavy w^eather in 
crossing the Atlantic,” I added. 

“Yes, sir; but they said her best sailing was 
with a 1 igli t wind. Your American yachts sail very 
fast, sir.” 

“I don’t know how they compare with the Eng- 
lish.” 

“If we go out together in the morning, we may 
have a chance to try a l)it with her.” 

“She is twenty or thirty tons larger than the 
Blanche.” 

“But I think the Blanche must be a very fine sail- 
er. Mr. Spelter says she has taken several prizes.” 


60 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


‘‘What is she doing?” I exclaimed, suddenly, 
springing to my feet, as I saw and heard a move 
ment on board of the Whitewing. 

“They seem to be heaving up her anchor, sir,’ 
replied Osborne, quietly. 

I could distinctly hear the rattle of her chain ca- 
ble, and my heart rose into my throat. I was on the 
lookout for treachery, and that noise seemed to be 
the first sign of it. I could just discern the dark 
forms of the men at work on the forecastle. 

“All hands on deck ! ” I shouted, not very loud, 
but sufficiently so to be heard all over the vessel. 

The order was promptly obeyed, and the men in- 
stantly rushed up the ladder from the forecastle. 

“What’s the matter. Captain Farringford?” 
askt d Mr. Spelter. 

“Man the windlass, and heave up the anchor to 
a short stay! Be lively about it,” I answered. 

“Are you going to sea to-night, sir?” said 
Spelter, in evident amazement. 

“I have no time for words. You will oblige me 
by seeing my order carried out without an instant’s 
delay. — Mr. Osborne ! ” 

“Here, sir,” replied the second mate. 

“Loose the fore and main sails.” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


61 


“Ay, ay, sir,” replied Osborne, with more zeal 
than Spelter had shown. 

I went forward, and sent ten men aft to loose tho 
sails ; for we had a patent windlass, which required 
but few hands to work it. I kept one eye on the 
Whitewing, and by the time our sails were cast 
loose, I saw her jib go up. 

“Man the mainsail halyards; lively, my men! ’ 
I called, nervously, for my worst fears were now 
confirmed. 

It seemed to me that the plan of inducing Larry 
to go on board of the Wbitewing was a contrived 
one, laid in advance. 

“Lively, men! lively!” I repeated; and Os- 
borne hurried the hands to their utmost. 

With six men at the throat and four at the peak 
halyards, the mainsail went up in a few moments. 

“Hoist theforesail ! ” I called to the second mate. 

“Anchor apeak, sir,” reported Spelter. 

“Clear away the jib and flying-jib!” I replied. 

At this moment the Whitewing went by the 
Blanche. The breeze was light, and she moved 
but slowly against the flood tide. Her crew were 
setting her gaff-topsails, and I judged by the noise 
on her deck, that her hands were doing their best. 


62 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“Foresail set, sir,’’ said Osborne. 

“Man the windlass ! Heave up the anchor ! ” 

“Anchor aweigh,” said Spelter, a few moments 
later. 

“Man the jib-halyards! Hoist the jib! Star- 
board the helm ! ’ ’ 

“Starboard, sir,” replied Butters, the old quar- 
termaster, who was at the wheel. 

The Blanche gathered headway, and moved 
slowly down the bay. I could still see the White- 
wing. In a few moments Spelter had secured the 
anchor. 

“Hoist the flying-jib, Mr. Spelter ! Get up your 
gafF-topsails, Mr. Osborne,” I continued; and our 
largo crew enabled us to execute all these orders 
very quickly. 

All thu hands had been stationed by Spelter, so 
that when an order was given, it was not necessary 
to designate the men who were to execute it. The 
gaff-topsails were brought up from the forecastle, 
where they were stowed, and hands had already 
overhauled the halyards, tacks, and oiithauls. 
Though our crew had worked together but a short 
time, I doubt whether a yacht was ever got under 
way any quicker than the Blanche. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER* 


63 


‘^Cheeseman ! ” 

“Here, sir,” replied the second quartermaster. 

“Go forward and keep your eye on the White- 
wing, and report every movement she makes.” 

“Ay, ay, sir.” 

We had the wind square on the beam, and as we 
went out from the shore it was fresher than at the 
anchorage. The Blanche heeled over, and began 
to go through the water at quite a lively rate; but 
I could not yet see that we gained on the White- 
wing. It was a light breeze at the best, and I 
judged that the English yacht had the advantage 
of us. 

“Rather a sudden movement. Captain Farring- 
ford,” said the mate, as he joined me on the quar- 
ter-deck. 

“Probably you do not understand the situation 
as well as I do,” I replied, hardly able to control 
my agitation. “I would not lose sight of the 
White wing for all this yacht cost.” 

“Why, what’s the matter?” 

“You are aware that Mr. Grimsby, our owner, 
is on board of her?” 

‘ ‘No ! hasn’t he returned ?’ ’ 

“He has not.” 


64 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“I went below at dark, and did not tliiiik but 
that he had come on ])oard again.” 

“There is treachery,” I replied. 

“You don’t say so! ” exclaimed the mate, whose 
tones indicated utter amazement. 

“Did your mate use to ask you if you w^ere 
going to sea, when you gave him an order?” I 
asked, for I was provoked with him for his want of 
zeal after I called all hands. 

“No, sir; but then we don’t have quite so strict 
discipline in a yacht as they do in a man-of-war,’ ’ 
he answered, sheepishly. “The order was rather 
sudden, and Iwas afraid somethingwas the matter.” 

“Something is the matter; but I don’t like to 
have any one ask me what the matter is when an 
order is given. The worst might happen while 
we are arguing the question.” 

“You are right. Captain Farringford, and I was 
wrong,” he added, so frankly that I freely forgave 
him. 

“All right now; I should not have spoken so 
decidedly if it had not been an emergency.” 

“I hope you’ll excuse me, captain, for I mean 
to do my duty, and obey orders, though you are a 
good deal younger than I am. But I see you 


THE TRA31PS OF A TRAVELLER. 


65 


knowhow to luiiidle a vessel; and I know the 
Blanche never got under way so quick before.’' 

“I am entirely satislicd, for you did your work 
promptly after you began.” 

“i’ll begin sooner next time. We don’t often 
have any emergencies on yachts, except when we 
get under way in a race; and then we arc all on the 
lookout. But 1 can’t for the life of me understand 
this business yet.” 

“At another time I may tell you all about it; 
now I can only say that the owner of the White- 
wing is a cousin of Mr. Grims])y, and has the 
same surname — Miles Grimsby. Our Mr. Grimsby 
is the heir of Sir Philip Grims])y, an English baro- 
net, and stepped between this Miles and his expec- 
tations. If he should die. Miles would be a bar- 
onet, with an income of half a million a year.” 

“Whew!” whistled Spelter, significantly. 
“Then Miles Grimsby wants to get our Mr. 
Grimsby out of the way?” 

“Precisely so; but I don’t think any harm has 
come to him yet.” 

“Heaven forbid I ” gasped the mate. “I under- 
stand it all now.” 

“Then be sure that the Blanche docs her best. 

5 


66 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


You know her better than I do; and if there is 
any expedient by which her speed can be in- 
creased, let me know on the instant.” 

“She is doing very well now, sir; but the 
balloon-jib will help her, just as soon as we get 
the wind a point farther aft, as we shall in a few 
minutes.” 

“Have it ready to bend on,” I replied, as we 
went forward. 

“Ay, ay, sir.” 

“How goes it, Cheeseman?” I asked of the 
quartermaster on the lookout. 

“Sheisgainingupon us a little, sir, if anything.” 

I examined the position of the Whitewing very 
carefully, and I was satisfied that the quarter- 
master was correct in his judgment. She was in- 
creasing the distance between us, but I hoped the 
balloon-jib would give us the advantage. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


67 


CHAPTER V. / 

IN WHICH PHIL DISCOVERS THAT THE WHITEWIN(^ 
GAINS ON THE BLANCHE. 


“HVTOW stand by to start your sheets.” 

1 I gave this order when we had run dowj^ 
nearly to the Narrows: and the men who were sta- 
tioned at the sheets went to their places. 

“Run up the balloon-jib,” I added. 

I did not believe the White wing had a sail ol 
this description, and I hoped everything from ours. 
The English yacht was twenty-five tons large! 
than the Blanche, and this gave her the advantage^ 
But, on the other hand, she was a light-weather 
craft ; and Osborne assured me that her best sail- 
ing: was in a six or eio^ht knot breeze. In the 
month of April we had reason to expect some 
heavy weather. The Blanche was very broad on 
the beam, and I had sailed enough in her to under- 
stand that she would behave well in a heavy sea. 


G8 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


when the wind was blowing. a gale. I only feared 
that the Whitewing would slip away from us when 
the breeze was light. 

The balloon-jib was promptly run up under the 
direction of Mr. Spelter, who was now as zealous 
and faithful in the discharge of his duties as I 
could wish a first officer to I)e. 

“Starboard tbe helm ! Ease off the sheets ! ” I 
continued, at the right time. 

Our course through the Narrows gave us the 
wind on the starboard quarter. The immense bal- 
loon-jib drew splendidly, and I immediately ob- 
served the effect of it in our increased speed. I 
walked forward to obtain a better view of the 
chase. 

“How goes it now, Cheeseman?” I asked of 
the quartermaster on duty there. 

“I believe we are beginning to gain a little,’’ 
replied the man. “But I think the Whitewing is 
getting ready to set a fore square-sail.” 

“Why do you think so?” 

‘ ‘The hands are at work forward . We are gain- 
ing on her, sir,” added the old salt, who appeared 
to watch the situation with quite as much inter- 
est as I did. 


THE TIiAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


69 


‘Oil’. Spelter, we are gaining on her.” 

“Glad of it. We’ll give her some, yet, if she 
don’t slip away from us in the darkness,” answered 
Spelter. 

“Get up your fore square-sail, and have it all 
ready.” 

“Ay, ay, sir,” said the mate, as he called the 
hands, and proceeded to do this duty. 

In a short time he reported the sail ready to 
be set. 

“I don’t mean to interfere, Captain Farringford; 
but I hope you don’t intend to set the square-sail 
yet,” suggested Spelter, in respectful tones. 

“No. It will only becalm the balloon-jib. But 
off Sandy Hook we must start the sheets again. 
If that fellow is going to the West Indies, as he 
said he was, he will have the wind over the stern. 
If he is bound to England, as I suspect be is, he 
will stand off to the eastward.” 

“Well, captain, I rather think he will take the 
course that will give him his best point in sailing. ” 

“Probably he will. But this is still an open 
question to us,” I replied. “If he goes to the 
eastward, we can do better with our balloon-jib; 
if to the south-east, and right before the wind, we 
can do better with the fore square-sail.” 


70 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“That-*^ rso, IJaptain Farringford. I should think 
you had been Kiiling in the Blanche all your life- 
time/’ 

“But the principle is just as good for any othe^;^ 
Vessel as for the Blanche.” 

‘ ‘I don’tknovv but it is ; and I know it is right for 
the Blanche. Weave gaining, captain, ” added Spel- 
ter, with considerable excitement in his manner. 

The possibility ot overhauling the Whitewing 
led me to consider the next step. I could not be- 
lieve that any harm hi^d yet come to Larry Grims- 
by. Miles was a coward, even in his desperation. 
All that he had thus far done in his attempts to rid 
himself of his cousin had been undertaken in the 
most indirect manner, and while he himself was 
hundreds of miles away from the scene of action. I 
was morally certain that he would not resort to 
immediate violence in New York harbor, or even 
on the high seas, while there was a })ossil)ility of 
his yacht being overhauled either by the Blanche 
or by a man-of-war steamer. I could form no idea 
of Miles’s i)urpose in legard to my friend; but I 
felt that he Avas safe from violence for a time, or, 
even if he was not, the revolver I had insisted 
upon his taking would enabio him to defend him- 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


71 


self to the best advantage. The worst that I was 
willing to imagine was, that Larry was a prisoner 
in the cabin or a state-room of the English yacht. 
If the Whitewing went to the West Indies, possi- 
bly he was to be released in Havana, and disposed 

by a Spanish bravo. 

Even if I could overtake the Whitewing, and 
lay the Blanche alongside of her, the problem 
would be by no means settled. If we were to 
fight for the j^ossessioii of our owner, I was not 
sure that my crew would “take any stock” in the 
battle, or, if they would, that our muscle would 
carry the day; for I was aware that the English 
yacht had more men. I Loped it would not come 
to this ; but I was ready even for this emergency. 

Anxiously I watched the white sails of the chase, 
and I realized that we were gaining upon her. We 
were approaching the beacons off Sandy Hook, 
where the problem of the Whitewing’s course was 
to be settled. We were now within two hundred 
yards of her, and the question became more excit- 
ing than ever. Though I had been through the 
channel several times, and had carefully studied 
the chart of the lower bay, I asked Spelter to act 
as pilot, because he Avas entirely at home in this 
locality. 


72 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“There goes her fore square-sail!’’ called 
Cheeseman, from the forecastle. 

“That settles the question,” I added to the 
mate. 

“How does she head?” I shouted to the 
lookout. 

“She has started her sheets,” replied the 
quartermaster. 

“Then she is going off to the south-east. If she 
had been going to the eastward, she would have 
gybed,” said the mate. 

“It is plain enough that she is going off before 
it,” I added. 

“Stand by the sheets!” called Mr. Spelter, 
when the Blanche came up with the beacon. 
“Ease off — lively ! Up with the helm ! Now run 
up the fore square-sail ! ’ ’ 

All these orders were promptly obeyed, and in 
a moment the Blanche was headed to the south- 
east, with the wind nearly aft. Half an hour on 
this course convinced me that we were no lonirer 
gaining on the Whitewiiig, and my heart sank 
within me. The balloon-jib hardly helped us any ; 
and I ht\d found that our strong point was with 
the wind a little abaft the beam, with this sail 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


73 


drawing well. But I had the consolation of know- 
ing that we about held our own. I took the de- 
parture, and the mate did the same. Heaving the 
log,* I found we were making but four knots. I 
was confident that we should develop another 
strong point as soon as we had a fresh breeze ; 
and I hoped we should soon have wind enough to 
compel the captain of the Whitewing to take in 
his fore square-sail, which was proportionally much 
larger than ours, thus giving her a great advan- 
tage in a light breeze. 

The crew of the yacht had been fully organized, 
and every man knew his duty. I had directed the 
mate to have everything done in a seaman-like 
manner. The bell forward sounded the hours and 
half-hours ; all the tricks at the wheel had been ar- 
ranged, and the crew had been regularly divided 
into watches, and stationed accordingly. It w^as 
no longer necessary to keep all hands on deck, 
and, agreeably to the old nautical saying, that the 
captain takes the ship out, and the mate takes her 
home, the starboard watch, which is the captain’s, 
were ordered to remain on duty, while the port, oi 
mate’s, watch went below, to l)e in readiness to 
take the deck at eight bells, or twelve at night. 


74 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


Thoiigli my watch was on duty, I was not re- 
quired to serve with it, for the second mate, when 
there is one, takes the captain’s place in keeping 
watch. Osborne, therefore, had the deck! I 
went down into the cabin, and Spelter followed 
me. I spread out the great chart of the North At- 
lantic Ocean on the cabin table, and went to work 
upon it Avith the parallel ruler and pencil. We 
Avere folloAving the WhiteAving, and I took from 
the compass h' r exact course. Making the alloAV- 
ance for a variation of the needle, I found that 
the chase Avas headed for the Bermudas, and had 
laid her course very accurately for these islands. 

“That’s clear enough,” said Spelter, Avho had 
Avatched my calculations with interest. “If she 
Avas going to any point in the West Indies, she 
Avould have taken a course more to the southward.” 

“But she is playing a game; and, Avhen she has 
fully convinced us that she is bound for the Ber- 
mudas, if she can get out of our sight for a fcAv 
hours, she Avill change her course to the south Avar d 
or AvestAvard,” I replied. “Of course we cannot 
depend upon an^^thing. ” 

“That’s so. A fog or a dark night Avill give her 
a chance to dodge us.” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


75 


*‘And W0 can’t help ourselves.” 

“No; that’s a fact. She won’t show any lights 
to help us. ” 

“Miles Grimsby said he intended to go to the 
Bermudas and the West Indies ; but he does not 
always tell the truth.” 

“He wouldn’t be likely to tell you where he was 
going on this trip.” 

“Certainly not. And for that reason I am not 
very contident that he is bound to the Bermudas. 
But you can turn in, Mr. Spelter. You are wast- 
ing your watch below.” 

“I think I will, captain, for I like to be wide 
awake when I’m on deck. But I’m perfectly will- 
ing to stay up all night if you Avish.” 

“Not necessary. We may as well keep cool, if 
we can; though I don’t expect to sleep any to- 
night.” 

“I suppose you are nervous,” said he, with a 
smile. “So am I; and I don’t know that I can 
sleep.” 

He went forward to his room, and I continued 
to study the chart for a time. Then I went on 
deck to ascertain AAdiether Ave AA^ere gaining or 
losing on the chase. To my astonishment, I found 


76 


SEA AND ISHORE, OR 


that we were losing rapidly. I was taken all abacl^ 
by this discovery, for at this rate the Whitewing 
would be hull down by daylight in the morning. 

“What’s the matter, Mr. Osborne?” I asked of 
the second mate. 

“I really don't know, sir. Everything is draw- 
ing well, and the Lelmsinr.n keeps her as steady as 
a vessel can be kept before the wind. I don’t 
understand it, sir. She held her own, at first, for 
some time. Possibly they have put more sail on 
the Whitewing.” 

“She couldn’t set another stitch of canvas,” I 
answered. “Go forward, and see if there isn’t 
something wrong.” 

“She steers uncommon bad, sir,” said Butters, 
the quartermaster at the helm. 

“What’s the matter?” 

“I don’t know, sir. Many’s the mile I’ve steered 
her, and she never behaved like this before. You 
see, sir, slie carries a lee helm now, and she never 
did it before. I can hardly keep the sails from 
going over. She feels as though a big whale was 
tugging away at the lee side of her, to bring her 
about. I don’t understand it at all, sir.” 

“Give me the helm,’^ 1 added, taking the wheel. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


77 


Certainly she steered in a most extraordinary 
manner, yawing oif when she rose on a Lillow, 
with a strong tendency to gybe. I had to meet 
her sharply with the helm every time she went 
over a wave. I was no more able to fathom the 
difficulty than the quartermaster had been. Os- 
borne reported that everything was all right for- 
ward. The Whitewing was running away from us 
with the most appalling ease, and it seemed to me 
that the purouit was entirely blocked. I sent the 
quartermaster to call Mr. Spelter, who promptly 
responded to the summons. I explained to him 
the difficulty, but he comprehended it before I had 
finished my statement. 

“I never knew her to behave in this manner be- 
fore. She acts as though she had a drag, and a 
heavy one, too, on the lee side,” said Spelter. “I 
don’t understand it.” 

“It is plain that something is the matter, and we 
must ascertain what it is,” I added, impatiently, as 
I led the way forward, followed by hoth of the 
mates. 

It was too dark to see anything; but in the 
waist I observed that the water on the lee side 
seemed to be disturbed. There was a kind of bub- 


78 


SEA AND SHOHE, OR 


bling and splashing sound, with a break in the sea, 
which maintained the same relative position in re- 
gard to the vessel. 

‘‘What is that, Mr. Spelter?’’ I asked. 

“I don’t know,” he replied, leaning over the 
rail, to examine the strange appearance of the 
water. 

“Is it a fish?” 

“No; I think not,” answered the mate, as he 
took an oar from one of the boats which were 
swung in-board on the davits. 

With this implement he proceeded to punch and 
thrust at the point where the water was disturbed. 

“There! I hit something! ” exclaimed he. “It 
felt like a barrel. Here. Osborne, bring a boat- 
hook.” 

“Ay, ay, sir,” readied the second mate, who at 
this moment was near the lee fore rigging; and 
he ran to the nearest boat, to obey the order, 

“There it goes!” shouted the mate, lifting up 
the oar. “There’s a rope fastened to it!” 

I plainly saw a piece of whale-line slide over the 
oar, as Spelter lifted it. 

“She’s all right now,” called Butters, at the 
wheel. “She minds her helm like a lady.” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


79 


“What Avas it?” I asked anxiously. 

“It felt like a tub, or a barrel, and there was a 
line fastened to it. Let me see ; ’ ’ and the mate 
went to the main hatchway. It was the tub we 
used for lowering small stores into the hold. 

“What tub?^’ I asked. 

“It was half a flour barrel, with a roue bail 
across the top. I put a fifty-six into it from one 
of the boats this afternoon.” 

“And it was draoforin^ overboard?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“But how came it there?” 

“That’s more than lean say, captain; but it 
couldn’t have got overboard, with the line made 
fast forward, without help from somebody.” 

“It’s very strange!” added Osborne. “I saw 
that tub this afternoon on the main hatch.” 

I inquired of all on deck in regard to the tub, 
but no one knew anything about it. 


80 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


CHAPTEE VI. 

IN WHICH PHIL SPEAKS VERY CANDIDLY TO THE 
SECOND MATE. 

I WATCHED the white sails of the Whitewing 
with increasing interest. The tub dragging in 
the water had enabled her to gain at least a mile 
upon us ; but it had fortunately been discovered 
in season to prevent the utter loss of battle. I 
was not at all satisfied with the mystery which 
enveloped the tub, for I could not imagine how it 
came to be dragging in the water alongside the 
yacht, with a whale-line evidently made fast to 
some part of her. I could not but ask myself if 
there was a traitor on board — some one in the em- 
ploy of Miles Grimsby. The thought was so start- 
ling that it forced me to investigate the circum- 
stance more thoroughly. 

I asked all the hands of the starboard watch 
what they knew about the tub. All of them had 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


81 


seen it on the niiiiii hatch, but no one could affoid 
me a particle of information in regard to the man- 
ner of its going overboard. I ivas the more per- 
plexed by these answers. It was half past ten 
when I went below, and I had not been absent 
from the deck more than half an hour. Six bells, 
or eleven o’clock, struck while we were looking 
for the obstruction to the speed of the yacht. 

“Butters, how long did the vessel steer so bad- 
ly?” I inquired of tlie quartermaster at the wheel. 

“About half an hour, sir,” replied the man. “I 
felt the first drag on me just after you went below 
with Mr. Spelter, at five bells.” 

“Did any of the hands come aft?” 

“No, sir.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Very sure, sir. I could see where they were 
sitting on the forecastle, and not one of them 
moved. The lookout man was standing on the 
heel of the bowsprit, where I could see him all the 
time.” 

This only corroborated the statement of the 
watch forward. 

“Was any one on the lee side of the vessel?” I 
asked. 


6 


82 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“1 saw Mr. Osborne there; no one else, sir.*’ 

“Yes, sir; I went over to the lee side several 
times,’’ added the second mate. 

“For what purpose?” 

“To get a better view of the chase. Accord- 
ing to your honor’s instructions, we keep a little 
to the weather of the Whitewing’s course; and I 
could see her better from the lee side, where the 
square-sail did not obstruct vision.” 

“Of course you were aware that we were los- 
ing rapidly?” 

“I was, sir.” 

“Why didn’t you report it to me?” 

“I was just thinkings of doing so when your 
honor came on deck. I supposed the Whitewing 
was getting a better breeze than we were, and ex- 
pected we should catch it every moment.” 

“That’s curious logic,” I replied. “Did you 
expect hor to get the first of a freshening breeze 
when she v/as a mile to leeward of us?” 

“I didn’t know but the Avind had changed more 
to the Avestwarcl.” 

I did not like the ansAvers of the second mate, 
and I pressed him still further on the point. Ho 
replied that he supposed I had turned in, or he 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


83 


should have reported the situation. I went be- 
low, ordering him to call me if there was the 
slightest change in the relative position of the two 
vessels. Spelter soon followed me, and as it was 
nearly time for him to take the deck, he decided 
not to turn in again. 

“What do you think of it, Mr. Spelter?’’ I 
asked. 

“I don’t know what to think of it; but that tub 
didn’t get overboard without some help, I’ll wager 
my year's pay,” re'plied the mate. 

“All hands agree that no one but Osborne was 
over on the lee side after we came below.” 

“That’s a fact.” 

“And it is rather a suggestive fact.” 

“Did you mind where Osborne was when I 
asked him to bring me the boat-hook?” asked 
Spelter, in a low tone. 

“No; but he was some distance from me.” 

“Well, I only judged by the sound of his voice 
that he was near the fore rififfifinor.” 

OO o 

“What does that prove?” 

“Don’t you see?” 

“I do see; but what do you say?” 

“I say that he cast off the line that held the tub. 


84 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


I have no doubt lie had before made it fast to one 
of the fore shrouds.” 

“Exactly so; that is my theory,” I replied. 

We had both come to the same conclusion with- 
out any consultation before on the delicate point. 
It was apparent to me that we had a traitor on 
board, though it was possible to be mistaken in 
this, as ill almost anything else. He had called 
me “your honor’ ’ two or three times — an expres- 
sion of which I had not before heard him make 
use; and it was suspicious at such a time, for an 
honest man don’t loady to any one. 

“I don’t like to accuse him of this treachery 
without more evidence,” I continued. “But I 
can’t trust him.” 

“I dare say if y^ou will give him rope enough he 
will hang himself.” 

“We can’t afford to run out »any line to a fellow 
like him. It looks now just as though he was sent 
on board to make mischief to our owner. What 
has he in your room?” 

“A valise and a few clothes.” 

“I will go and see. ” 

We went through the pantry passage to the 
state-room of the mates. The suit of clothes 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


85 


which Osborne had worn when I first saw him 
was hanging in the room. I felt that the circum- 
stances justified me in examining liis pockets for 
any evidences of his treachery. In the breast pock- 
et of the coat I found the small blank-book from 
which he had taken the papers he exhibited when 
he applied for the situation. They were here 
now, and 1 examined them again without finding 
anything to implicate him. In another pocket I 
found a key, which proved to be the one that 
opened the valise. This contained white shirts 
and woollens, but no pa[)ers of any kind. As 1 
lifted an under garment, I thought it was very 
heavy; and, unrolling it, I discovered a large 
leather purse, distended to the utmost with coins. 
They proved to be sovereigns, and there were not 
less than forty of them. 

‘‘That’s pretty well for a man whose baggage 
was held for his board,” whispered Spelter. 

“Of course the man is a humbug,” I replied, 
convinced now that Osborne was a “fraud.” 
“But I would like to find some letter or other 
writing to show his true character.” 

“There’s nothing of the sort here. I wonder 
the rascal left the key in his pocket.” 


86 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“Villains always leave some of their tracks un- 
covered,” I answered, as I restored everything to 
the condition in which I liad found it, and re- 
turned the key to the pocket. 

“I suppose you are satisfied, even without any 
writings,” added the mate. 

“Entirely satisfied. It is very fortunate we 
made this discovery in good time. If I had 
turned in when you did, we should have lost the 
Whitewing for this cruise.” 

“No doubt of it.” 

“Now, w^ho is jmiir best man forward?” 

“Between Butters and Cheeseman there is not 
much to choose. Both of tlunn are first-rate men, ’ ’ 
replied Spelter, as we returned to the cabin. 

“Which has been with you the longest?” 

“Cheeseman; he is an old man-of-war’s man; 
^nd if he understood navigation, he would be fit 
to sail a yacht. He was my mate last year.” 

“He shall take Osborne’s place, and have his 
pay. Are you willing to take him into your 
room?” 

“Certainly I am; there isn’t a better man in the 
world.” 

“All the port ’watch, on deck!” shouted one 
of the hands, as eight bells struck. 


THE TUAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


87 


Mr. Spelter went on deck, and relieved Osborne, 
while Clieeseman took the helm from Butters. 
The second mate went forward, and descended to 
his room by the fore hatch. 

“Are you sleepy. Butters?’’ I asked, as the 
quartermaster went forward. 

“No, sir, not yet. We have been sleeping In 
every night since we shipped.” 

“I want you to answer a few questions before 
you go below, without fear or favor.” 

“I will, sir.” 

“How long was the mate over on the lee side, 
after I went below?” 

“Not long, sir.” 

“What was he doing there?” 

“I couldn’t tell, for 1 was not noticing him. 
When I have the helm I mind it, sir.” 

“Where was he when the yacht began to 
drag?” 

“Over on the lee side; but I couldn’t see him, 
sir, for he was between the fore and the main sail. ’ ’ 

“Did you hear anything?” 

“I can’t say I did, sir; but I called to him 
when she began to steer badly. I told him some- 
thing was the matter; and he said he could find 
nothing, sir.” 


88 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“One more question: how do you suppose that 
tub got overboard, with a line made fast to the 
fore shrouds?” 

“I haven’t the least idea in the world, sir,” re- 
plied Butters, who was certainly not a swift wit- 
ness, though he had said enough to convince me, 
if he had not to satisfy himself. 

The fact that Osborne was not upon the weather 
side when the vessel began to steer wildly was 
sufficient, with the rest of the testimony. I was 
too nervous and excited to turn in myself, though 
1 was confident that the mate on deck woidd get 
her best speed out of the Blanche. I went below 
and tried to compose myself. I could not think; 
I could not read; I could not even keep still. I 
walked into the midship passage-way. I heard 
Osborne moving his things in the state-room. He 
had not turned in, and I opened the door. He 
was packing the clothes which hung in the room 
into the valise. I told him I wished to see him in 
the cabin, and he followed me. Seating myself on 
a stool at a circular table, on which the chart still 
lay, I looked up into his face, as he stood vrith hat 
in hand before me. His face Avas pale, and he was 
not so devoid of emotion as I supposed such a vil- 
lain would be. ' 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


89 


“Sit down,” I began, pointing to a stool. 

He obeyed me, but in a doubtful and hesitating 
manner, as though he feared the day of reckoning 
had come. I looked at him earnestly, to obtain, if 
I could, any further evidence of his perfidy. He 
was very much disconcerted, but whether or not 
this was only the embarrassment which even an in- 
nocent person must feel when regarded with sus- 
picion, I could not determine. He did not look 
me as squarely in the face as I like to have a per- 
son do. 

“Mr. Osborne, I am not satisfied with your 
conduct,” I continued, when he had seated him- 
self. 

“I am very sorry, captain, but I don’t 
think I have done anything wrong,” he re- 
plied. 

“I think you lowered that tub overboard, and 
fastened the line to the fore riir^in^^.” 

OO O 

“I, sir?” 

“What I mean I speak out.” 

“You are very ctodid, certainly; and if you 
think I have done anything wrong, I hope you will 
say so.” ’ 

“I have said so.” 


90 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“Would you oblige me byproving what you say, 
Captain Farringford?” 

“I may not be able to prove all that I believe; 
but I believe it none the less/’ 

“You will allow that it is hardly fair to condemn 
me without proof, sir.” 

“I can prove that you have imposed upon me. 
During your watch on deck, we find that tub, with 
a fifty-six in it, dragging in the water by a line 
made fast to the fore rior^ins:. The man at the 
helm informs you that something is the matter, 
but you don’t trouble yourself at all about it.” 

“But I did not know what it was.” 

‘ ‘I think you did. When you saw that Mr. Spel- 
ter was in the way of finding the drag, you went 
to the fore rigging, and cast off the line. The fifty- 
six carried it down, and we lost it. It was utterly 
impossible that any one else could have done this 
thing. The quartermaster could not leave the 
helm, and none of the watch forward came aft, or 
moved from their places at the heel of the 
bowsprit.” 

“It is rather hard to be accused in this way.” 

“Will you explain how the tub got into the 
Water?” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


91 


“Of course I can’t do that.” 

“You said you saw it on the main hatch.” 

“I did, sir.” 

“Do you believe it got overboard without help ?” 

“Of course not.” 

“And no one but yourself went near it. If you 
cannot explain the matter, no one else can.” 

“Why should I do such a thing. Captain Farring- 
ford?” he asked, when he found himself unable to 
answer me. 

“I will tell you why ; because you are employed 
and paid by Miles Grimsby to assist in putting our 
owner out of the way,” I replied, somewhat ex- 
cited. 

“I, sir? Is it possible that you can think me 
guilty of such a crime?” 

“I am entirely satisfied on this point. Of course 
this scheme to carry off Mr. Lawrence Grimsby 
was considered before it was put into execution, 
and you were sent onboard the Blanche to make it 
sure ])y such a trick as we discovered to-night. 
This is the whole truth, and of course you know it 
as well as I do.” 

“Indeed, you wrong me, sir,” he replied, with- 
out any excitement or indignation in his manner. 


,92 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“And you are an impostor, besides. The pret- 
ty story you told me about your luggage being 
held for your board was all humbug. You have 
money enough to pay your expenses for six 
months.” 

“Upon my word, 1 have only what Mr. Grimsby 
paid me, less the amount I gave my landlady. ] 
was very grateful to you and the owner for yom 
kindness, for it got me out of a very uncomfortable 
position. I haven’t twenty dollars left; ajid here 
it is,” he protested, taking his wallet from his 
pocket. 

“Will you open your valise, and let me see what 
is in that?” 

“My valise?” he added, more disturbed than 
ever. 

“No doubt Miles Grimsby pays liberally for 
such service as you render him, and I am satisfied 
that you could not have been so utterly penniless 
as you represented yourself to be.” 

“I told you only the truth, sir.” 

“Let me see the inside of your valise, then.” 

“Certainly, sir, if you desire it.” 

He rose from the stool, and led the way to his 
state-room, which was lighted by a gimbal lamp. 


THE TKAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


93 


He unlocked the valise, in which I found he had 
packed the clothes that had hung in the room at 
my former visit. 

“Search for yourself,” said he, stepping back. 

I did search for myself, but the purse of gold 
was not there now. I pulled over every article in 
the valise, but it had strangely disappeared. 


94 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


CHAPTER VII. 

IN WHICH PHIL DISPOSES OF THE SECOND MATEo 

X WAS not quite willing to tell Osborne that I 
had before examined his effects, nor was I 
ready to give up the point I had made. 

“You see there is nothing in my valise,” said 
the second mate, in a mildly-triumphant tone. 

“But do you say that you have no money except 
what is left of the sum paid you by Mr. Grimsby ?” 
I nsked. 

“Certainly, I say so. I hope you don’t think me 
capable of a direct lie, Captain Farringford,” he 
replied. 

“Whether I do or do not, I purpose to examine 
your room a little further. If I find that I am mis- 
taken, I shall be even better satisfied than you 
are with the result.” 

While I was speaking I looked about the state- 
room, in which I was satisfied that the purse of 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


95 


sovereigns was concealed. He seemed to have 
used Ills first spare time after the yacht went to 
sea in putting away his best clothes, and other- 
wise arranging his state-room. I could not ima- 
gine why he had taken the gold from his valise, 
unless he suspected that I had overhauled his lug- 
gage, which seemed hardly probable to me. This 
loom, as I have before stated, had originally been 
fitted up for the captain of the yacht, and there 
Avere plenty of conveniences for stowing away 
clothing and other articles. I looked into several 
lockers and drawers, Avithout finding the money, 
and finally opened the little closet under the Avash- 
stand. Having had occasion to conceal my own 
treasure more than once, I not only examined the 
])()ttom of the closet, Avhere alone any article could 
be placed, hut I thrust my hand into every corner 
of the upper part of the aperture. Behind the 
Avash boAvl, and resting upon the lead pipe Avhich 
supplied the bowl with water, I discovered what I 
Avas in search of. The pipe had evidently been 
bent down so as to afford a resting-place for the 
purse. 

I Avas rather afraid that Osborne, Avhen he found 
that he had lost his case, Avould turn upon me 


96 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


with violence, though thus far he had been as gen- 
tle as a lamb ; and I was very careful in my move- 
ments. I did not indicate that I had found 
anything until I had regained my feet. 

“Return to the cabin, if you please,’’ said 1, 
finishing the search. 

“I don’t see in what manner all these proceedings 
affect me,” he replied, backing out of the room, 
and then following me into the cabin. “I own 
nothing in that state-room but my valise, which 
contains all I possess in the world.” 

“Is that yours?” I asked, throwing the bag upon 
the table. 

“Certainly not. I wish it was,” he answered, 
coolly. 

“This is not your money?” I repeated. 

“I am sorry to say, it is not. It chinks heavy; 
if it is gold, it is more money than I ever had at 
one time in my life.” 

“Whose can it be, then?” I asked. 

“That’s more than I know; but I suppose it 
belongs to Mr. Spelter. I will go on deck and ask 
him, if you desire.” 

“Yes; go.” 

As he went up the steps, I opened the bag, and 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


97 


discovered, what I had not before observed, his 
name on the inside of ihe bag. The second mate 
was absent a longer time than was required to ask 
a simple question, and dro[)ping the bag into my 
side pocket, I went on deck. 

“What does he say?” I inquired, when I came 
to the two mates on the quarter-deck. 

“I was just explaining the circumstances to 
him,” replied Osborne. 

“The question was answered squarely enough 
in the beginning,” said Spelter. “The money 
don’t belong to me.” 

“Come into the cabin, both of you,” I added, 
leading the way. 

“This is very strange indeed,” protested Os- 
borne, as he seated himself in the cal)in. “I sup- 
posed, as a matter of course, that the money be- 
longed to Mr. Spelter.” 

“You tried hard enough to persuade me that it 
did,” replied the mate, indignantly. “He told me 
the money was mine, if I only had a mind to say 
so, captain.” 

“Your saying so would not have convinced 
me that such was the fact,” I answered. “I 
should have thought it very strange that Jacob 

7 


98 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


Osborne’s name shoiikl be on a purse of money be* 
longing to Mr. Spelter.” 

I opened the purse, which was made of chamois 
leather, and had probably been used for years. I 
pointed out the name, which was just plain 
enough to be read. Probably the owner had for- 
gotten this circumstance, as rogues and villains 
are very apt to make little blunders which betray 
them. 

“Does this convince you that the money be- 
longs to you, Mr. Osborne?” I inquired, pointing 
to the name on the bag. 

“No, sir; certainly not. It only convinces me 
that my ruin is a foregone conclusion. You are 
determined to convict me. I ho[)e you didn’t 
WTite my name in that purse yourself, sir,” ho re- 
plied, with an eftroiitery which was as cool as it 
was astonishing. 

“Well, Osborne, you are the most impudent 
liar I ever met yet,” said Spelter, unable longer to 
control his indignation. 

“I know of no reason why both of you should 
seek to injure me.” 

“You brought that money on board in your 
valise, Osborne,” persisted Spelter. “I saw it 
there myself.” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


99 


“Did you open my valise, Mr. Spelter?” de- 
manded Osborne. 

“He did not; but 1 did,’' I interposed. 

“You did?” exclaimed he, pale with anger and 
emotion. 

“I did.” 

“And I helped him,” added the mate. 

“Have 1 fallen among thieves ?” 

“No; but we have fallen among one thief,” re- 
j^lied Spelter. 

“Do you consider that you have any right to 
examine my private property. Captain Farring- 
ford?” 

“Under ordinary circumstances, no. But when 
the liberty, and even the life, of my friend, and 
your employer, are in peril, I regard myself as 
perfectly justified in doing so. I think I have 
proved that you are an imposter; that you are 
conspiring against your employer.” 

“I have nothing more to say,” he answered. 

“I have. I will no longer trust you in any po- 
sition of responsibility on board this yacht. You 
are no longer second mate.” 

“Then I am no longer anything,” muttered Os- 
borne. 


c U. tf c. 


100 


KEA AND SHORE, OR 


“You can take jour money,’’ I added, handing 
him the bag. 

“I am willing to take it, since you insist upon 
it.” 

“As you have taken your advance, I shall — ” 

“As yon have made me rich, I can pay you back 
the advance,” said he, tnking ten sovereigns 
from the bag, and placing them on the table. 

“Very well, Mr. Osborne. I ask nothing of you. 
You are in the employ and pay of Miles Grimsby." 
Let me inform you that any attempt on your j^art 
to interfere with the working of this vessel in any 
manner will subject you to such treatment as you 
deserve. I will put you in irons, or put a bullet 
through you, as the case may require,” I contin- 
ued, toying with the revolver I had carried with 
me all the evening. 

“You can move your traps out of my state-room 
as quick as 3^011 please, for I won’t bunk with such 
a villain as you have proved yourself to be,” added 
Spelter, indignantlj’. 

“Am I to berth on deck?” 

“No; in the forecastle,” answered the wrathful 
mate. 

“You may berth in the cabin. I prefer to have 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


101 


you here, where I can see what you are about,” I 
interposed. “You will consider yourself a passen- 
ger, and have nothing to say to the crew.” 

I pointed out one of the four berths in the cabin 
for his use, and he brought his effects from the 
mates’ room. He appeared to assent to all I had 
said; and in a few moments after Spelter went on 
deck, he turned in. I was very well satisfied 
Avith what had been accomplished, and I rejoiced 
that we had so early ascertained the treacherous 
character of the second mate. If I had not gone 
on deck as I did in Osborne’s Avatch, probably we 
should not again have seen the WhiteAving. He 
had come on board to do just this AA^ork; and if I 
had turned in, as he supposed I had done, he 
Avould have efi’ected his purpose. 

I was still too nervous to sleep, and I went on 
deck again. The wind Avas hauling more to the 
westAvard, and increasing in force. Several pulls 
had been given at the sheets. So far as I could 
judge, the Whi tewing maintained her relative dis- 
tance; but the breeze continued to freshen, and at 
three bells Ave had it nearly on the beam. The 
fore square-sail Avas taken in, and the balloon-jin 
told tremendously in our favor. Then Ave began 
to gain on the chase. 


102 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


I had already informed Cheeseman that he was 
promoted to the position of second mate, and he 
had turned in again in order to be in readiness for 
the morning watch. As everything was well on 
deck, I turned in myself at four hells, and I did 
not wake till six o’clock. I found that the 
Blanche was considerably heeled over, and ap- 
peared to be going through the Avater at a rapid 
rate. I went on deck, and saw the chase less than 
a quarter of a mile ahead of us^ Mr. Cheeseman, 
the neAV second officer, was on deck, and he was 
paying the best of attention to the sailing of the 
yacht. The wind Avas about on the beam and 
bloAving a ten knot breeze. It AA^as emphatically 
lively, for the Blanche had all the sail set that she 
could possibly /.tagger under. But she made bet- 
ter Aveather of it than the WhiteAving, Avhich ap- 
peared to be laboring badly under her press of 
canvas. 

“We shall be up Avith her in a couple of hours, 
at this rate, sir,” said Cheeseman. 

“Yes; but she cannot carry all that sail much 
longer,” I replied. 

“No, sir; she is Avorrying under it. There she 
goes, sir! She is taking in her square-sail.” 



Fate of the Whitewing. Page 107. 








% 


o 


« 








i * 




t 


r 













THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


103 


Reducing her sail eased her, so that she went 
along just as rapidly; for it does not help a vessel 
to crowd her too miK^h, when it is blowing fresh. 
She had been driving her bows under, and knock- 
ing the water about furiously. We continued to 
gain on her, however; and when I came up from 
breakfast with Mr. Spelter at eight bells, we were 
within hailing distance of the chase. 

“We must shorten sail, or run ahead of her,” 
said the mate, who now took charge of the deck. 

“Let her drive a while longer,” I added. 

“What can you do, now you are up with her? 
Do you intend to lay her al)oard?” 

“No, nothing of the kind. I don’t think we can 
make anything out of a fight, and we might get 
into troidjle. If we l)oarded him, he might put an 
English man-of-war upon, our track, or, if we failed, 
hand us over to the authorities in any port to 
which he might lead us. I think it is the safer 
way to proceed strictly according to law.” 

“But the villain may throw Mr. Grimsby over- 
board, poison him, or smother him, before we can 
do anything according to law.” 

“Well, how would you proceed, Mr. Spelter?” 

“I don’t exactly know; but it seems to me I 
should run him down, or lay him aboard.” 


104 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“If j’oii run him down, you may destroy our 
friend with the others. If you run alongside, as 
we can, we shall have to fight it out, and actually 
capture the yacht, which is dangerous business. 
No. As long as I can keep near him, I shall be 
content to wait. But I don’t believe any harm 
will come to Mr. Giimsby while our vessel is in 
sight. Now, luff a little, and we will run up 
abreast of the Whitewing.” 

The helm was put down a little, and a pull taken 
in the sheets. Om* l)alloon-jib enabled us to have 
it all our own way, and in half an hour we were 
squarely abreast of the chase, in a position fi’om 
which I could have tossed a biscuit on her deck. 
With an opera-glass I examined the j^crsons in 
sight, but Larry and Miles were not among them. 

“White wing, ahoy!” I shouted. 

“Onboard the Blanche!” replied the captain 
of the chase. 

“Where is Lawrence Grimsby?” 

“Safe and well.” 

“Will you give him up?” 

“No! Sheer off.” 

At this moment the Whitewing started her 
sheets, and stood away from us. I told Mr. Spelter 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


105 


to take ill the balloon-jib and set the jib and flying- 
jib. Under this sail we held our own. The chase 
had come to the wind again, and we continued to 
follow her. I need not detail our sea work for the 
next two days, during which time we kept the 
AVliitewing in sight. Sometimes we were near 
enough to distinguish the faces of those on deck, 
by the aid of a glass; and 1 had the satisfaction, 
two or three times, of identifying Larry among 
them. 

On the fourth day out we had a gale of wind, 
after a brief lull of the fresh breeze which had 
favored us nearly all the way from Sandy Hook. 
It came heavier and heavier, and sail was reduced 
on each yacht, till each carried only a close-reefed 
foresail. 

AVe had had a fine run, and according to my reck- 
oning Ave were nearly up with the Bermudas, and 
ought to see them before night; for Ave still held 
our course, and the log gave us eight knots. 

“She is going too far to the Avestward,” said 
Spelter, after we had made up the dead reckon- 
ing; for Ave could obtain no obseivation that day. 

“That’s so. But the fellow is up to some trick,” 
I replied, uneasily; for I had studied the chart 


106 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


with the greatest care. “He has not permitted 
us to follow him all this time without some purpose 
in view.” 

“He means to snarl us up in the reefs off the 
islands.” 

“Very likely. He could have done better by 
ruiming off before the wind; but he has given us 
our best point in sailing. He means something.” 

I thought it probable that the captain of the 
White wing knew his way through some of the 
dangerous openings in the coral reef that stretches 
out to the northward and westward of the Bermu- 
das. I was soon assured of this by the discovery 
of breakers on the weather bow. Tlie Blanche 
was half a mile or more to the leeward of the 
chase. Suddenly the Whitewing tacked, pitching 
tremendously in the sea, and stood directly to- 
wards the reef. In a few moments she tacked 
aorain. I watched her wirh the most intense inter- 
est, for I feared that her captain had outwitted 
me, and intended to run across the water enclosed 
by the reef, and come out through some passage 
known to him on the other side. I told Spelter to 
come about, but I dare<l not think of following the 
chase through the reef. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


107 


Suddenly our men forward gave a tremendous 
yell ; and I saw the White wing with her bow up in 
the air and her stern down, so that the sea flooded 
it at every swell. 

“She has struck on the rocks!” shouted But- 
ters. 

The captain of the White wing seemed to be 
caught ir his own trap. 


108 


SEA AND SHORE, OB 


CHAPTER VIII. 

IN WHICH PHIL BOARDS THE WRECK OF THE 
AVHITEWING. 



F course I was very much startled by the 


V./ calamity Avhich had befallen the Whitev ing, 
and greatly alarmed for the safety of Larry. As I 
had seen him on the deck of the chase, I was satis- 
fied that he was not confined below. His clnmces 
of saving himself were therefore quite as good as 
those of the others on bonrd, if Ije had fair play; 
but the occasion looked to me like the demon’s op- 
portunity. 

The gale had evidently passed its height, and 
was now subsiding, though it was still fierce 
enough. The Blanche had behaved remarkably 
well, much better than her English rival. The 
Whitewing made no attempt to elude us in the 
darkness, and after the first trial of speed, did not 
crowd on sail to escape. Indeed, she went along 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


109 


without seeming to care that she was followed, or 
to realize that the Blanche had the advantage of 
her. This induced me to believe that Miles had 
some deeper })urpose than was yet apparent. 

As soon as it seemed certain to me that the 
chase would lead us to the Bermudas, 1 hail 
carefully studied the enlarged chart of these is- 
lands. The wind was south-west, and our course 
was south-east. I had caused a sharp lookout to 
be kept for breakers on the weather bow; not, of 
course, that there was any danger from them, but 
in order to ascertain our position. The Blanche 
had kept about half a mile to the leeward of the 
Whitewing. The sea was so stirred up by the 
gale that we could hardly have distinguished 
breakers at that distance, if there had been any. 

On the chart I readily found the opening in the 
reef, through which the chase had attempted to 
pass, and I identified it by a breaker laid down just 
to the south of it, which appeared only at low wa- 
ter. I consulted my tide tables, and fully satisfied 
myself in regard to our position. The passage 
was a most perilous one at any time, but the cap- 
tain of the Whitewing had attempted it with a 
head wind, blowing a gale, at dead low tide. I 


110 


SEA AND SIIOliE, OR 


could hardly escape the conclusion that he lind in- 
tended to wreck his vessel ; for certainly he had 
not more than one chance in ten of iroin^ throiig-h 
in safety. But my first solution of the problem 
was more satisfactory, after a careful examination 
of the chart — that the captain of the chase in- 
tended to dodge through this opening in the reef, 
where I should not dare to follow him, and, cross- 
ing the water enclosed by the perilous reef,— a dis- 
tance of from fifteen to twenty miles, — pass out on 
the west side. Doubtless at high water, and un- 
der favorable circumstances, he could have safely 
accomplished his purpose. 

“Who is the captain of the Whitewing, Os- 
borne?” I asked, while I was looking over the 
chart in the cabin. 

“Captain Garboard; at least, he was, the last I 
knew of her,” replied he. 

“Does he know these islands?” 

“Perfectly.” 

“Not so perfectly as he might, or he would not 
have attempted that passage in this weather.” 

“He was in the navy, and served as a pilot 
on this station. He ought to know all these chan- 
nels.” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


Ill 


‘Then lie lias run his vessel upon the reef on 
purpose, ’’ 1 replied, hastening on deck again. 

The Blanche was approaching the scene of the 
calamity, going as close to the wind as she could 
under a double-reefed foresail ; but our progress 
was very slow. 

“What do you think of her, Mr. Spelter?” 1 
asked, anxiously. 

“She is in a bad way, and if I mistake not, that 
is the end of her. She must have stove a hole in 
her bottom, and she seems to be bumping heavily 
on the reef. I see they are trying to vrork her off. 
There she bumps again!” 

“They are clearing away a boat,” I added. 

I watched them with interest, as the seamen of 
the Whitewing lowered the boat into the water. 
It hung at the davits on the weather side. A wave 
came up under it, and tossed it across the quarter- 
deck of the vessel. I thought I could hear the 
crash of planks as it struck the rail ; but whether I 
did or not, the boat was stove. Another sea swept 
it away, for it was no longer worth retaining. 

Ours were both life-boats, built of iron. Four 
men had already been detailed to pull one of them. 
They were the ablest and best seamen on board, 


112 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


and I had the fullest confidence in them. I had 
decided to go with them myself, and to take the 
mate with me, for other questions than those 
relating to seamanship were liable to come up for 
settlement. 

‘‘I think we had better not go any nearer,” 
said Spelter. 

‘‘Heave her to, then,” I replied. 

The fore-sheet was hauled down till the double- 
reefed foresail was as flat as we could make it. 
Butters was placed at the helm, for he was the 
most experienced hand. 

“Clear away the starboard quarter boat ! ” I 
continued. “Man the falls!” 

When the life-boat was swung out on the davits, 
the four men took their places in her. I took 
my position in the stern-sheets, and Spelter in 
the bow. 

“Now mind your eye. Butters,” I shouted, 
when we were all in our places, and the seamen 
had their oars up. 

“Ay, ay, sir!” responded the helmsman. 

“Let her ofl' a little!” 

A big sea lifted the yacht, and the wind heeled 
her over. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


113 


“Lower away!” I cried at the top of my 
lungs, for the sea made a tremendous noise. 

Promptly the hands at the falls on deck lowered 
the boat till it struck the receding sea beneath. 

“Cast oft the falls,” I added to Spelter, and I 
unhooked the one in the stern. 

The great billow swept us away from the yacht, 
as Butters put the helm down, and threw her head 
up to the wind again. 

“Let fall! Give way together!” I continued; 
and the seamen dropped their oars into the v/ater, 
and began to pull a steady, strong stroke all to- 
gether. 

Grasping the tiller ropes, I threw the boat’s 
head up to the sea, as a big wave lifted us up into 
the air. Spelter crawled aft, and we trimmed the 
boat between us. I had not permitted her to get 
into the trough of the sea, where she would cer- 
tainly have been overturned; for a life-boat will 
upset as easily as any other craft. The sea 
combed in over the bow and stern, and in a few 
moments all hands were Avet to the skin, and the 
Avater Avas swashing fore and aft in the bottom of 
the boat. The men pulled admirably, and there 
was no jerking or irregularity in their movements. 

8 


114 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


Every oar seemed to do its part in keeping the 
boat steady. 

The Whitewing had run up close to the reef, 
and then tacked to the southward — a course which 
brought her into the jaws of the passage. On this 
tack she had run upon the reef, and consequently 
lay with her head to the soutlnvard, tlie wTnd 
raking diagonally across her deck. As we came 
near her, 1 heard her planking and timbers snap- 
ping and grinding on the reef, the sea making a 
clean breach over her quarter-deck. 

‘‘It’s all over with her,” said Spelter. “The 
bottom is all knocked out of her, and she is all 
afloat inside.” 

“It W'as madness to go into such a })lace as this 
in a gale of wind,” I added. “The worst of our 
job is yet to come.” 

“That’s so. If some of those fellows don’t 
lose the number of their mess, I am mistaken.” 

“I hope w^e shall be a])le to save them all.” 

“I hope so, too; but if any one is to be lost, I 
hope it wTll be the right one.” 

By this time w^e were wTthin hail of the people 
on the wreck, who were all gathered in the fore- 
castle, holding on to the fore rigging, and to the 


THE THAMES OF A TRAVELLER. 


115 


life line, which had been stretched across the 
deck. 

“Swing out your main boom I” I shouted. 

“That’s easier said than done,” added Spelter. 
“The sea is making a clean sweep over her 
quarter-deck . ’ ’ 

“They are going to try it, at any rate. I think 
I could do it, if 1 were there.” 

“So could I; but those people seem to be rather 
demoralized. If they do it in as lubberly a 
manner as they attempted to get their weather 
quarter boat overboard, they won't succeed.” 

“Lay on your oars, men! Pull steady, and 
keep her head up to it,” I called to the oarsmen. 

“There he goes,” said the mate, as one of the 
seamen on the deck of the Whitewing, taking 
advantage of a lull in the sea, rushed aft, carrying 
a rope in his hand. 

Passing it outside of the lee main shrouds, he 
reached the main sheet, just as another sea swept 
over the stern of the vessel. Fortunately it was 
not so heavy as many others had been and hold- 
ino^ on at the sheet he save d himself from being 
Avashed overboard. In desperate haste, he made 
fast the end of the rope ho had carried aft to the 


116 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


boom. He then cast off the main sheet, as an- 
other sea boarded the stern ; but he leaped upon 
the boom, and held on at the topping lift, by 
which he raised himself above the burden of the 
angry billow. 

“Sway away!” shouted the brave fellow, as he 
raised the boom by heaving on the topping lift. 

The hands forward hauled on the guy rope he 
had attached to the boom, while the seaman over- 
hauled the main sheet, so as to permit it to run out. 
He maintained his place on the spar, and in a few 
moments was out of the reach of the seas that 
swept over the stern. It was exceedingly well 
done on his part. 

“Now give way, my men,” I continued, when 
the boom was swayed out so that it w^as in range 
with the direction of the wind. 

In a few moments our boat was under the lee of 
the Whitewing’s stern, which to a considerable 
extent broke the force of the heavy seas. The 
bow was run up under the boom. The man on this 
spar had hauled out the end of the sheet, and 
having secured the boom where it was, so that it 
could not swing forward or aft, he dropped the 
rope into the boat, where it was secured by our 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


117 


bowman, and the brave fellow above was the first 
to descend. 

“God bless you for what you have done!’’ ex- 
claimed he. 

“What is the condition of your vessel?” I 
asked. 

“Full of water, sir.” 

“Where is Lawrence Grimsby?” 

“Who?” 

“The passenger, I mean.” 

“Indeed, sir, I fear he is lost, sir.” 

“Lost!” I cried, aghast at this answer. 

“He was not among the rest of the people. I 
think he was in the cabin, sir,” replied the sailor. 

“Avast there ! ” I yelled, as loud as I could 
speak, when I saw some of the people of the 
Whitewing mounting the boom. Miles Grimsby 
among the number. “I want Lawrence Grimsby 
first.” 

“He is lost! ” shouted the captain of the White- 
wing. 

“Can it be possible?” 

“The cabin is full of water, sir,” replied the 
English seaman. 

I was maddened at the thought. Springing 


118 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


forward, I grasped the sheet, and climbed upon the 
boom. 

“Cast oflf, and go astern a little, Mr. Spelter,” 
I called to the mate. “Don't take in a single one 
till I give the order.” 

“Ay, ay, sir.” 

I crawled on the boom down to the mainmast, 
and leaped upon the deck. 

“Where is Law^’ence Grimsby?” I demanded 
above the howl of the storm, as I confronted Miles. 

“Really, I don’t know,” replied Miles, his teeth 
chattering with terror. 

“I haven’t seen him since we struck,” added 
Captain Garl^oard. 

“He was in the cabin,” muttered Miles. 

“Did you mean to drown him,” I cried, hardly 
able to keep my hands off the villain’s throat. 

“No, no!” pleaded Miles. “I meant him no 
harm.” 

“Where is he?” 

“He was in the cabin.” 

“And the cabin is under water!” I gasped. 
“Wniere was his room?” 

“On the starboard side.” 

This answer, if it was correct, made the matter 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


119 


more hopeful, I ordered the captain, in the most 
peremptory tone, to conduct me lo the cabin. 

‘‘Not a man shall be saved, if he is lost!'' I 
added. 

“I think he is safe,” replied Captain Garboard. 
“I didn’t think anything about him after we 
struck, for then it was every man for himself.” 

He led me into the forecastle, and then through 
various rooms, till we came to a passage ])y which 
the cabin was reached. The water was three feet 
deep amidships, but as the vessel was heeled over 
to port, her starboard side was not so low in the 
water. 

“Help! help !” shouted Larry. 

“He has that room on the starboard side,” said 
the captain. 

The key was in the door, and the door was 
locked. I turned it, and found my friend up to 
his knees in the water, holding on at his berth. I 
folded him in my arms and wept Avith joy. 

“I didn’t think I should ever see you again, 
old fellow,” said he. 

“Come Avith me, but be careful,” I added, lead- 
ing him by the hand through the Avater, to the 
forecastle. 


120 


SEA AND SIIOIJE, CP. 


AVe ascended to the deck, Avhere Miles Avas 
waiting in terror and anxiety for oiir appearance. 
I took no notice of him, hut conducted Larry to 
the boom, Avliere I hade him follow me. As tlic 
sail was secured on the spar, the passage Avas not 
very difficult, though we Avere drenched Avith 
sj)ray. As soon as Spelter saw me tkel)oat came 
up to the boom, and Avas made fast by the rope. 
I assisted Larry to descend, and rejoiced Avlicn I 
saw him safely in the boat. I followed him, l)ut 
the moment I Avas in the boat, I cast off the rope. 

“Pull, port! back, starboard!” I shouted. 

The boat came about very well under the lee of 
the AAn^eck, and the movement Avas folloAved by a 
hoAvl of dismay from those on the WhiteAving. 

“Save me ! save me ! ” yelled. Miles Grimsby, in 
the most abject terror, from the boom on Avhicli he 
had perched himself. 

“Be patient!” I replied. 

“Surely you Avillnot let our people perish,” in- 
terposed the English sailor in the boat. 

“No , but I Avill not expose my friend whom that 
miscreant' Avoid d have murdered, to any risk, if I 
can help it. The boat shall return at once,” I 
replied. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


121 


I 'Was afraid the people on the wreck would 
crowd the boat so as to endanger her safety, and I 
was determined to make sure of Larry before I at- 
tempted to save those who had kidnapped him. 
The Blanche had fore-reached so that she had 
diminished the distance between herself and the 
wreck one half. We ran under her stern, and 
Larry, the Engish sailor and myself, climbed on 
board by a rope dropped from the main boom. I 
directed Spelter to return to the wreck, and bring 
off as many as he could safely of her crew. 


122 


SEA A^'l) SllOKE, OR 


CHAPTER IX. 

IN WHICH PHIL TAKES MILES GPtIMSBY AND OTHERS 
ON BOARD THE BLANCHE. 



S the gale was blowing less fiercely now, 


ATjL I ])rought the Blanche^ over on the other 
tack, and lowered the port quarter boat into the 
water, with another crew under Butters to assist 
in bringing ofi’ the people of the Whitewing. I 
was delighted with the working of our ])oats, for 
they had been purchased at my suggestion. I did 
not like the light and frail structures, which an- 
swered very well for oixliiiary yachting, and they 
had l)een discarded. 1 could not help tliinking 
that the present safety of our owner Avas in some 
measure due to the excellent character of our 
boats, for the cockle shells Ave had left in XeAv 
York, in Avhich two men pulled four oars^doublc- 
handed, could not have been very serviceable in 
the raging sea that iioav prevailed. The port quar- 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


123 


ter bout behaved quite as well as the other, under 
liie bkiliul luauagenieiit of Butters; and I could 
see no reason why every man on the wreck should 
not be saved. 

But all this time I was nursing my indignation 
against Miles (irimsby and the officers of the 
Whitewiiig for their infamous conduct towards 
Larry. Miles had been utterly treacherous, and 
1 had lost all hope of any reconciliation between 
the cousins, if I had ever cherished any. While 
I was considering the subject, and trying to feel 
like a Christian towards our enemy, Larry, who 
had gone below to obtain dry clothing, came on 
deck. I had hardly spoken a word with him yet 
about the events which had transpired since we 
parted in New York Bay. It was enough for the 
present that he was safe ; and I was determined 
that he should not again trust himself, even for an 
instant, in the hands of his wicked cousin. 

“I hope you are doing all you can to save the 
people of the Whitewing, Phil,” said he. 

“I am; but I am willing to own that I haven^t 
much heart in the job,” I replied. 

“Why not?” 

“Because Miles has been so infamously treach- 


124 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


erous to you. Why, the wretch locked you up 
ill your room so that you might perish there, iiKe 
a felon in his cell.’^ 

“You are a little too fast, Phil. He didn’t do 
that. But suppose he had done it, and suppose 
I had been drowned when the yacht first struck; 
would it have been any the less your duty to save 
Miles and the crew of the White wing ? Will you 
answer this conundrum?” 

“Of course it would have been my duty to save 
all the survivors; but I should not have relished 
the undertaking half so well as if they were 
honest men.” 

“Perhaps not. I have been more afraid of los- 
ing my soul than of losing my body. I have been 
locked up in that state-room for two days. The 
only book I had was the Bible, for I found oiui 
in the room, placed there by a Bible Society, as I 
learned by the inscription on the cover. When 
we get to London, I’m going to give a thousand 
pounds to that Society, for those two days with the 
Bible did me more good than all the reading I 
ever did before in my life.” 

“But we have read the Bible a great deal to- 
gether.” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


125 


“I know that. But you see, Phil, it was the 
peculiar circumstances that forced its blessed 
truths right home to my conscience and to my 
heart. In London, Liverpool, and elsewhere, I 
have seen these same Bibles in the rooms of the 
hotels, and have even read them; but I was not 
exactly in the mood to be influenced by the teach- 
ings of the book, as I have been for the last two 
days. I used to think it was all nonsense to put 
the Bible in steamboats, hotels, and other pul)lic 
places, for my observatioii was, that no one ever 
looked into them, unless it were pious people, who 
always carried it with them. But if one in ten 
thousand of those distributed affords as much com- 
fort and consolation to a single reader as mine did 
to me, it is a splendid interest on the investment.” 

I was astonished at the remarks of my friend at 
such a time ; and I confess that they moderated my 
indignation towards Miles and his companions. 
But I had no time to consider his views then, for 
Mr. Spelter’s boat was approaching, and it was 
necessary to get the Blanche in position for taking 
her passengers on board. In the stern-sheets sat 
Miles Grimsby, holding on with both hands like n 
frightened child. The boat came up under the 


126 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


stern of the yacht, and the bow-man seized the 
rope which was thrown to him. The English sail- 
ors came up without difficulty, but Miles was 
clumsy and unskilful. After the first trial he 
dropped down into the boat, unable to climb up 
the rope to the main boom. 

“Up with you,’’ shouted Mr. Spelter, savagely. 
“ Don’t keep us waiting here all day.” 

“Not a word, Mr. Spelter!” Larry interposed, 
warmly. “Don’t you see he can’t climb that 
rope?” 

“Then let him go overboard, and be hanged to 
him,” responded the indignant mate. 

“Save me! save me!” moaned Miles, terrified 
still more by the harsh words of the mate. 

“If you let liim go overboard, Mr. Spelter, 
I’ll discharge you,” cried Larry. “Come, Phil, 
what is to be done ? We must get Miles on board, 
if we don’t anybody else.” 

“All right; we can get him onboard easily 
enough,” I replied. 

I sent a hand out on the boom with a snatch- 
block, which I directed him to make fast to the 
topping-lift. A rope was passed thiough this 
block, and one end lowered into the boat, the 
other end leading to the quarter-deck. 



Miles Grimsby in Slings. Page 127. 




THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER* 


127 


^‘Make a sling in the rope, Mr. Spelter,’^ 1 
called to the mate; “see that everything is secure, 
and get him into it.’' 

The mate quickly obeyed my order, and in a 
moment Miles v as seated in the sling, holding on 
at the rope with his hands. 

“Now, Avalk away,” I added to the men on the 
quarter-deck w!io had been statioiual at tlie rope. 
“Steady! Don't hurry.” 

I went out on the boom myself, and swayed off 
the rope, so that Miles i-dght not be jammed on 
the spar, and in a moment ho was hauled up to 
the topping-lirt. 

“Lower away,” I continued, taking the feet of 
Miles raid separating them, so that he came down 
astride of the boom. “Now Work yourself in- 
board, Mr. Grimsby.” 

I kept behind him, and held him so that the 
violent motion of the Blanche should not unseat 
him, and he hitched slowly along till Larry 
grasped him by the hands and assisted him to 
the deck. 

“Give me your hand. Miles,” said my friend, as • 
he grasped that of his trembling cousin. “I con- 
gratulate you on your safety.” 


128 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


But Miles could not speak. He was drenched 
to the skill, and shaking with cold as well as 
with fright. 

“Gome into the c ibiii, Miles, and we will soon 
make you comfort i])le,” continued Larry, taking 
Miles by the arm and conducting him as tenderly 
as though he had been his best friend, instead of 
his most bitter enemy, to the companion-way. 
They disappeared in the cabin; but I heard Larry 
calling for the cook and the cabin steward, who 
were on deck rendering Avhat help they coull. 
Mr. Spelter went off to the wreck again, and he 
had hardly left before the other boat came up 
under the boom. In another hour every one of 
the people on board of tlie Whitewing was safe. 
Captain Garboard came in the last boat. The 
mainmast of the wrecked vessel had gone by the 
board, the stepping having been ground away by 
the motion of the hull on the reef. It tore up the 
deck as it fell, and I was satisfied that in a few 
hours more there would l)e nothing left of the 
White wing. Our boats Avere hoisted up, and I 
directed Cheeseman to fill away on our course 
again. 

I invited Captain Garboard into the cabin, and 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


129 


all the rest of the AVliitewiiig’s crew had gone to 
the forecastle. Going below myself, I found that 
Larry had clothed Miles in a dry suit of his own, 
and had actually iirstalled him in his own state- 
room. The steward was just bringing in hot coffee 
and other ]’efreshments. 

“I hope you feel comfortable now. Miles,” said 
Larry. 

‘‘Better,” replied Miles, 

“Now take a cup of coffee; it will warm you.” 

“Thanks,” iiuittered the gnest. 

“You will join us. Captain Garboard,” added 
Larry. “But 3011 must have dry clothes first.” 

“But I don’t happen to have any. 1 h ive lost 
every stitch I hid,” answered Captain Garboard, 
gloomily. ‘Tt makes no difference to me. I am 
used up for this world.” 

“Not quite. But you shall be made comfort- 
able Avhile you are 011 board of the Blanche,” 
added Larry. 

Osborne, who was about the siz3 of the Captain, 
offered a suit for his use, and, retiring to my 
room, he ])ut it on. The steward ))rought in for 
the table the best the yacht afforded, and Larry 
dispensed his hospitality with the most liberal 
9 


130 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


hand. He was gentle and assiduous in his efforts 
to make his guests at home; hut both of them 
were sullen and silent. I could not see that his 
extraordinary zeal and kindness had any effect 
upon Miles, though he often expressed his thanks 
in a single word. I had looked in vain for any 
signs of recognition when Osborne met Miles, but 
of course both of them were too cunning to betray 
their own treachery. 

The scene of the wreck of the Whitewing was 
within a few miles (T St. George, the most north- 
ern of the Bermudas; but the weather was so 
tliick.to windward that we could not sec it. As 
it was now nearly night, I decided to staiid off till 
morning, and then, if the weather was suitable, 
to go into St. George’s harbor. The gale was sub- 
siding, and the wind hauling to the nortliwrad. 
As we were und(‘r the lee of the islands, the sea 
was tolerably smooth. AVe hnd taken in the fore- 
sail, and were now under jib and reefed mainsail. 
The yacht was crowded l)y the addition of the crew 
of the wrecked yacht; l)ut our men gave up their 
berths to the Englishmen without an exception; 
‘.ind those wdio could not have l)erths were accom- 
modated oil the divans and the floor of the cabin. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


131 


After supper, Miles complained of not feeling 
well, and wished to retire; but I was satisfied that 
this was only an excuse to get rid of the company 
of his cousin, whose kindness, instead of touch- 
ing his heart, seemed to disgust him. Captain 
Garboard was silent and moody, though I could 
not help talking to him; and I finally unsealed 
his lips, so that he was willing to speak of the 
disaster which had destroyed his vessel. 

“That was a dangerous passage through which 
you attempted to pass,’’ I began, as we were all 
seated in the cabin. 

“Yes.” 

“And you did not choose the most favorable 
time for attempting it,” I added. 

“No.” 

“Was it your own or Mr. Grimsby’s plan to go 
through the passage?” 

“My own.” 

“I suppose you intended to get away from us 
by that course.” 

“Yes.” 

“It was an unfortunate move for you,” I per- 
sisted. 


“Yes, very.” 


132 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“But I should luive followed you through, if 
the weather had been suitable.” 

“Then you would have been where we are 
now,” replied Captain Garboard, rather sharply. 

“Well, that is precisely what you desired, I 
suppose.” 

“No, not that. If you mean to say that I am 
just as big a villain as” — he pointed to Larry’s 
state-room, in which Miles had turned in — “you 
are right. I am. I am properly served out for 
Avhat 1 have done.” ^ 

“But what was your object in going through 
that dangerous passage,” I asked. 

“Simply to shake you oft'; nothing more, upon 
my conscience. Perhaps I am not so bad a man 
as you think I am.” 

“1 hope not,” 1 answered, candidly. “But did 
you not expect me to follow you.” 

“No. I knew you could not be so reckless. 
I intended to make a harbor inside the reef, after 
I had shaken you oft, and run out on the other 
side when the weather favored. I have been a 
pilot among these islands, and know every channel 
and rock.” 

“But you certainly mistook the channel through 
which you attempted to pass.” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


133 


“No, I did not. It was the Ye::>seVs fault, not 
mine. She didn’t work well under her close- 
reefed foresail, and when we went in stays, she 
wouldn’t come about, but jammed her head right 
on the reef. I have been through that passage in 
a schooner several times under precisely the same 
circumstances; and if we hadn’t been serving the 
devil, instead of a Higher Power, I should have 
taken her through all right this time,” he added, 
dropping his voice to a low tone. 

“You seem to have a proper appreciation of the 
work in which you were engaged. Captain Gar- 
board,” I replied. 

“I have; and I understood it just as well before 
as I do now.” 

“Why did you do it, then?” 

“What could I do? I am a poor man, depen- 
dent upon my situation for the support of my 
family. I could only do what my owner bade me, 
or leave his employment. I don’t often obtain a 
winter job.” 

“I suppose you know Mr. Osborne, here,” I 
added, indifferently. 

He glanced at our late second mate, but seemed 
to be ill doubt about answering the question. 


134 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“I told you I had S(3on him at Cowes, said 
Osborne. 

“Half the truth’s a lie,” added Captain Gar- 
])oard. “He was the lirst mate of the White- 
wing, and crossed the Atlantic in her.” 

“I hadn’t much doubt about that,” I replied. 
“But he betrayed himself before we were six hours 
out of New York.” 

For the benefit of Larry and the English captain 
I repeated the story of the tub. Osl)orne did not 
resent the exposure, probably feeling that he was 
already convicted. 

“I suppose you knew Osborne when he drank 
too much,” I continued. 

“I never heard that he was an intemperate 
man,” replied Captain Garboard. 

“Because I never was,” added Osl)orne. “I 
can wipe that stain out of my character, if I can’t 
the other. But, like the captain, I had to obey 
the orders of the (;wner, and I don’t often get a 
winter job.’’ 

“That’s a poor excuse, I think. A man had 
better go to the workhouse than sacrifice his honor 
and integrity,” I observed. 

“True. I believe it now, if I never did before.” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


135 


“But the gravest charge that can be brought 
against you is the locking up of Mr. Lawrence 
Grimsby in his state-room, where — ” 

“Avast there, Phil. Just clapa stopper on the 
foreto’-bobbin,” interposed Larry. “I have told 
you I was in that state-room for two days, and 
therefore I couldn’t have been locked in for such 
an occasion as the wreck of the Whitewing. 
Don’t make it any worse than it is.” 

“It’s bad enough, any way.” 

“So much the more reason for not making it 
any worse. In due time I will tell my own 
story,” added Larry. 

“Suppose you begin now,” I suggested. 

“All right. Here goes. When I left you in 
New York harbor. Miles seemed to be very pli- 
able, and I had high hopes — ” 

“Sail, hoi” shouted Mr. Spelter, opening the 
cabin door. “There’s a schooner on our lee bow, 
Captain Farringford. She has just fired a gun; 
there goes another. She seems to be in distress. ” 
“Run down to her,” I replied, hastening on 
deck, followed by all in the cabin. 


136 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


CHAPTER X. 

IN WHICH PHIL RELIEVES THE HERMIA, AND LISTENS 
TO LARRY ’S STORY. 

W 'HAT do you make of her, Mr. Spelter?” 

I asked, as I joined the mate on deck. 
“The guns indicate that she is in distress; but 
she seems to be well up in the water, and works 
very well,” replied the mate. 

The clouds had rolled away, and the sky was 
clear now. It was not very dark, and we could 
make out the schooner’s appearance quite dis- 
tinctly as we approached nearer. 

“She is no merchant vessel,” said Spelter. 
“She is a trim-built craft, and trimly-rigged.” 

“I tliink she is* a yacht,” added Captain Gar- 
board. 

“That’s my idea,” responded the mate. 

“Two English yachts that I know of sailed for 
the West Indies in October, their owners intend- 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


137 


insr to winter amoii^ the islands . I think this 
vessel is one of them, for she looks like an Eng- 
lish-rigged yacht,” continued Captain Garboard. 
“One of them was the Hermia, belonging to Mr. 
Fitzgerald, and the other was the Japonica, owned 
by Mr. Golding.” 

^Ye ran under the stern of the stranger, and 
came up into the wind, as she had done before. 
There was no appearance of anything wrong about 
her, for she had not lost a spar, and her jib and 
mainsail were set. 

“Schooner, ahoy !” shouted Mr. Spelter. 

“Schooner, ahoy!” replied some one from the 
stranger. 

“What vessel is that?” 

“The Ilermia, of Southampton, in distress.” 

“What’s the matter?” demanded Spelter. 

“We are short-handed, and want a navigator. 
Can you help us?” inquired the spokesman of the 
Hermia. 

“Ay, ay! Send a boat on board.” 

“Short-handed,” repeated Captain Garboard. 
“She was that when she left England. She took 
only eight men besides the captain, wlio was the 
only navigator on board. The owner Avas careful 
of his pocket.’ 


138 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


The boat from the Hermia soon came alonoside, 
and the officer who had come in her leaped on our 
deck. 

“Is that you, Graves?” asked Cai^tain Gar- 
board, approaching him. 

“No, sir. My name is Finch,” replied the man. 

“But where is Captain Graves.” 

“He was lost overboard yesterday, with the 
mate and three seamen, in the hurricane.” 

“Poor Graves!” sighed Garboard. “I knew 
him well, and. he was a good fellow. Is Mr. Fitz- 
gerald on board?” 

“Yes, sir. He is very anxious and uneasy, 
for we have but four men left, besides the cook 
and steward.” 

“I should think he might be, if he has no nav- 
igator on ])oard,” added Captain Garboard. 

“We 1 jst a man])y sickness in Havana, and we 
sailed for England one hand short. Y^esterday 
morning the wind was fresh and increasing. We 
were under jib and reefed mainsail, when it sud- 
denly came down upon us in a hurricane. We 
had the reefed foresail ready to set, and had luffed 
up to get in the mainsail, when the wheel got 
jammed by the sail coming upon it, and the vessel 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


139 


fell off into the trough of the sea. Just at that 
momeiit a treiiienJous sea boarded us on the 
quarter-deck, and the captain, mate, and three 
seamen were swept away. 1 am the second mate; 
and I had hauled down the jib, and was getting the 
reefed foresail up at the time. IVe rolled at the 
mercy of the waves a few minutes, for I could do 
nothing. When the Avind eased oft‘I set the foresail 
and secured the mainsail. I got her out of the 
trough of the sea, but for four hours I thought that 
every moment Avould be our l-ist. I looked about 
me for the captain and the others Avho had been 
swept overboard, but I could not see them. Both 
of our ])oats were carried away, but we received 
no material damage.’^ 

“Where was Mr. Fitzgerald all this time?” 
asked Captain Gar board. 

“Shut up in the cabin, sir, expecting every 
instant to go to the bottom. I 1 ished myself to 
the wheel, or I should have gone overboard. I 
am no navigator, sir, and I haven’t the least idea 
where I am.” 

“You are just to the eastAvard of the Bermu- 
das.” 

Every person on l>oard of the Blanche, except 


140 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


Miles Grimsby, liacl come on deck when the inteb 
ligence of the vessel in distress was circulated. 
Captain Garboard and Osborne both offered their 
services to navigate the Hermia to England ; and 
I soon ascertained that every one of the White- 
wing’s crew was anxious to go home in the yacht. 
They had lost their voyage ; and if I landed them 
at the Bermudas they might be obliged to remain 
there for weeks, and even months, before they 
could return to England. It was therefore a matter 
of the deepest interest to them, and they were very 
strenuous in their demands. It was finally decided 
that Captain Garboard and Osborne should go on 
board of the Hermia, and arrange for the passage 
of the entire crew. In half an hour they returned 
with the intellio^ence that Mr. Fitzo-erald agreed to 
take the whole crew of the Mhitewing, Garboard 
as captain, Osborne as mate, and the rest to work 
their passage. 

“Where is Mr. Grimsby?” asked the captain. 

“He is in his state-room still,” I replied. “He 
has not been out of it. Do you wish to see him?” 

“No. I hope I shall never see him again.” 

“But do you intend to leave without saying 
good-bye to him?” I inquired. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


141 


“I do. If your Mr. Grimsby can forgive me foi 
the injury 1 have done him, I shall be happy.’’ 

“There’s my hand,” interposed Larry. “1 
don’t think yon ever had any ill-will towards me.” 

“That‘s the truth, Mr. Grimsby,” replied Gar- 
board, taking the offered hand and shaking it 
heartily. “I am only sorry and ashamed that I 
ever allowed myself to engage in my owner’s dirty 
work. I don't excuse myself. I only ask to be 
forgiven this time.” 

“Freely I forgive yon.” 

“Thank yon, sir. 1 never had the least heart 
in the business,” said the captain, as he went over 
the side into the boat. 

I ordered one of our boats to be lowered to assist 
in transporting the seamen to the Hermia. I won- 
dered that Miles did not come on deck, for I did 
not believe he could be asleep with so much noise 
as was made by the tramping feet on deck above 
him. He must have suspected that something 
was going on, and his conduct seemed very strange 
to me. 

“Captain Farringford, wo are one hand short 
now,” said Spelter. “I like that first man we 
brought off from the Whitewing, the one that 
swung out her main boom.” 


142 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


*‘Ship him if you can/' 

Spelter offered him the s;ime wages that our 
crew received, and he was but too glad to accept 
the lay, especially as we should soon go to Eng- 
land. In half an hour our boat was hoisted up 
at the davits, and the Herniia had filled away, the 
crew giving us three cheers as she did so. Our 
vessel seemed very quiet and lonesome after the 
crowd had left her. I was glad to l)e rid of Os- 
borne, for I did not like the looks of him. 1 was 
afraid he had a mission which he was yet to exe- 
cute, and it was a relief to know that blue water 
rolled between him and Larry. I believed that 
Captain Garboard wished to be an honest man, 
and, away from Miles, 1 had no doubt he would 
be so. 

Larry and I went into the cabin, after I liad 
given the mate directions for the night. The 
door of the state-room occupied by Miles was 
still closed, and it was evident he had not left it 
since he first entered it. I had no difficulty in 
believing that he would bo thoroughly astonished 
in the morning, vvlum he discovered that all his 
late companions had left him, 

‘Tt looks lonely here,” said Ltirry; “but I am 
not sorry to get rid of the crowd.” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


143 


‘‘Nor I. We are at home again now. Isn’t it 
stransre that Miles don’t show himself? He could 
net have been asleep through all this excitement.” 

“Probably he has been. He carries an opiate in 
his pocket.” 

“What?” 

“Brandy.” 

“Does Miles drink?” 

“Only after the day is over. In the evening he 
boozes till it makes him sleepy. He used to get 
out his brandy bottle at nine o’clock, and take 
three or four nippers. Then he was so tight he 
could hardly turn in.” 

“I am surprised.” 

“I’m not; for a man that has the devil in one 
form is very likely to have him in half a dozen 
forms,” added Larry. 

“But you haven’t told me your story yet, 
Larry. ’ ^ 

“I will. Miles was very pleasant when I went 
on board the Whitewiiig off the battery. I was in 
hig*h hopes thnt we shoidd make an arrangement. 
We had a nice supper in his cabin, with v/ine and 
liquor enough on the table to float the yacht. He 
insisted tliat I shmild drink, begged and teased 


144 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


me, and finally was angry because I would not. 
He told me I couldn’t be his friend, as I professed, 
if I wouldn’t drink with him. A year ago it would 
have been the easiest thing in the world for me to 
do so. But I haven’t tasted a drop since we met 
for the first time, Phil.” 

“Of course you didn’t humor him.” 

“Certainly not; but he drank enough for both 
of us. I opened upon the question that was 
nearest to my heart, for my only desire was to 
make peace with him, not particularly because I 
was afraid of him, but because brethren, and even 
cousins, should agree, and I knew that my grand- 
father would be delighted to have us friends. I 
asked him squarely Avhat he wanted of me, what 
I could do to satisfy him. He told me that nothing 
I could do would satisfy him, except the confes- 
sion that I was an impostor, and that I had de- 
ceived Sir Philip. While I was reasoning with 
him on the folly of such a demand, and assuring 
him that 1 could not falsify the truth, even if I 
wished to do so, I heard the flapping of the main- 
sail on deck, and the rattling of the foreto’-bobbin 
forward. Just then Miles became very eloquent in 
the defence of his own right, and in pin nation of 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


145 


the injury I had done him. I began to be suspi- 
cious that something was wrong, but ho would not 
permit me to interupt him.’’ 

“Did you know the vessel was getting under 
way?” I asked. 

“I knew that something was going on, but I 
couldn’t tell exactly what. You see I hadn’t got 
the hang of the foreto ’-bobbin. Miles talked so 
fast after he had oiled his tongue with a whole 
bottle of sherry, that I couldn’t get a word in edge- 
wise. Among other things, he said he was in love 
with Lady Somebody, — I forget whom, — and his 
heart would be only a shell to her without any 
coronet or baronet on it. Then the yacht keeled 
over a little, and I began to perceive the odor of 
a small mouse.” 

“Well, what did you do?” I asked, much inter- 
ested. 

“I went to the cabin door and found it locked 
on the outside. Miles stopped talking then, and 
laughed. I went to the door by which the cabin 
steward had brought in the supper. That was 
locked, and Miles laughed louder than before. 
In a few moments I was fully satisfied that the 
Whitewing was under way. What could I do? 

10 


146 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


That was the question I asked myself then. Of 
course I fully realized I was the victim of mis- 
j)laced coiilideiice. 1 put my hand on the revolver 
ill my pocket, but somehow I didn’t feel wicked, 
and hadn’t the slightest inclination to shoot any- 
body. I expected Miles would look tragic, and 
do some stunning thing; but he didn’t. In fact, 
he only laughed. When a man is good-natured, 
Phil, whatever he is, I don’t like to be cross. 
I laughed, too; but Miles, who was tipsy, was 
rather more demonstrative than I was. He as- 
sured me it was only, a practical joke, and 1 told 
him that I fully appreciated it. It was useless for 
me to kick, for I couldn’t hit anything. I could 
have used up Miles in the twinkling of an eye; 
but I must fight the whole crew in order to accom- 
plish anything.” 

“What did he intend to do with you, Larr}^?” 

“That’s more than I know.’ 

“Didn’t he threaten you, or indicate in any 
manner what he intended to do?” 

“No; he never gave me a hint of anything. I 
sat down at the table with him again, and attempted 
to talk over our relations once more; but he was 
too tipsy to have an idea, and I gave it up. He 
pointed to a state-room on the starboard side, and 


THE TRAMtS OF A TRAVELLER. 


147 


wished me to make myself entirely at home, and 
to be as happy as I could. Presently the door of 
the cabin was unlocked, and the captain came 
down. 

‘‘ ‘They are after us,’ said he. 

“ ‘Who?’ asked Miles, with a drunken start. 

“ ‘The other yacht.’ 

“I saw that you were not expected to follow 
us, and that your movements annoyed Miles and 
the captain very much. As the door was open, 
I went on deck, and no one attempted to restrain 
me, or otherwise interfere with my movements. 
I saw the Blanche after us, and I assure 3^ou I 
began to enjoy the race, for the fact that you were 
following me seemed to drive from my mind any 
suspicion of personal peril. At one time we 
gained very rapidly on the Blanche.” 

“That was when Osborne put out the drag,” I 
added, explaining the trick. 

“If the Blanche was not expected to follow, 
I don’t see why Osborne was sent on board of 
her.” 

“Probably to provide against emergencies,” I 
suggested. 

“Toil know all about the voyage as well as 


148 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


I do. Miles was rather morose the next morninor, 

O’ 

for the Blanche was overhauling him very rapidly. 
He and the captain had a long talk, after which he 
seemed to feel better. I kept good-natured all the 
time, and made some very bad jokes. When 
Miles got tipsy the next night, I had a talk with 
Captain Garboard, and tried to find out what they 
intended to do with me. I did not succeed. I 
began to be a little impatient under this kind of a 
life, and I made up my mind that when the Blanche 
again came as near the Whitewing as she had 
several times, 1 would jump overboard, and let you 
pick me up. I put a piece of plank in a conven- 
ient place to use in the water. You came quite 
near, and I was on the point of h aping into the sea 
with my plank, when Captain Garboard laid his 
flat paw on my shoulder. He assured me I should 
certainly be drowned, and that he had seen the fin 
of a big shark that morning. I don’t think he 
would have interfered if he had not been afraid I 
should be drowned or gnawed by a shark. I gave 
it up, and went below. After dinner I went into 
my state-room to take a nap. When I awoke, the 
door was locked. Of course the captain had told 
Miles what I was about ; but I tim sure if my amiable 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


14 ? 


cousin had known there was a man-eater astern, 
he would have permitted me to jump overboard. 
My meals were handed in to me by the steward, 
and I spent two days reading the Bible, as I told 
you. You know the rest.” 

We discussed the matter for an hour, and then 
turned in, Larry occupying a berth in the cabin. 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


l&O 


CHAPTER XI. 


IN WHICH PHIL AND LARRY MAKE SOME NEW 
ACQUAINTANCES AT ST. GEORGE. 

HEN I went on deck in the morning, at 



^ ^ rather a late hour, the Blanche was off the 
IDrincipal entrance to the harbor of St. George, 
with a signal flying for a pilot. The wind had 
subsided to a gentle breeze from the westward. 
We had been in the circles of one of the revolving 
storms which prevail in the region, and the Hermia 
had probably experienced its full violence. But 
the weather was beautiful now, and the bright sun 
seemed to be an earnest of the clearer future be- 
fore us, now that Miles had apparently been de- 
prived of his power to injure Larry. We took a 
pilot in a short time, and, though the wind was 
not fair, we got into the harbor and anchored be- 
fore Larry turned out. The paying out of the 
cable waked him, and he thrust his head out of 
the curtains. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


151 


“How’s this, Phil? Has the foreto ’-bobbin 
broke down?” he asked, evidently startled by the 
noise of the rattling chain. 

“The foreto ’-bobbin’s all right, and we have 
come to anchor in the harbor of St. George.” 

“Have you seen the dragon?’' 

“No. .He was up late last night, and hasn’t 
turned out yet. But we are right under the lee 
of Cherrystone Hill.” 

“St, George is nobody without the dragon,” re- 
plied Larry, as he proceeded to dress himself. 
“Is Miles stirring yet?” 

“I haven’t heard from him since he turned in 
last night.” 

“That’s twelve hours ago. Perhaps he is sick, 
or something has happened to him,” suggested my 
friend, with a troubled look. “He couldn’t sleep 
twelve hours on a stretch.” 

I went to the door of the state-room and 
knocked. Miles promptly answered, and we were 
assured that he was still alive. 1 told him it was 
eight o’clock, and that we were at anchor in port. 
Presently he came out of the room, with his over- 
coat on his arm. 

“Good morning, Miles,” said Larry. 


152 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“Good morning,” replied he, coldly, as he 
looked about the cabin, as if in search of some 
one. “Is Captain Garboard here?” 

“He is not,” I answered. “Captain Garboard 
left the Blanche last night, and is now on his voy- 
age to England.” 

Miles looked at me in utter astonishment; and 
I related to him all the circumstances of the de- 
parture of the Whitewing’s people. He appeared 
to be very much disconcerted, and disposed to 
be angry. 

“Didn't you hear any noise last night?” I 
asked. 

“I did not,” he replied. 

“I supposed you must be awake, for the men 
were tramping on the deck over your head for an 
hour.” 

“I heard nothing. I am a heavy sleeper at sea. 
Why was I not called?” 

“We spoke to Captain Garboard about seeing 
you, but he declined to disturb you.” 

“The villain ! Have all the crew of the White- 
wing gone?” 

“Every one of them, including Osborne. As 
they had lost their voyage, they were anxious to 
get home.” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


153 


“I am anxious to get home also, and they ought 
to have called me. Fitzgerald M ould have given 
me a passage.” 

“Don’t trouble yourself about that, Miles,” in- 
terposed his cousin. “I will give you a passage, 
and place my yacht at your disposal.” 

Miles’s face flushed, and he did not even thank 
Larry for the courteous offer. 

‘ Breakfast is all ready, Mr. Grimsby,” I con- 
tinued. “Take a seat, sir.” 

“1 Avill not impose myself upon your hospitality 
any longer than is necessary,” he answered, very 
stiffly; and I could not help feeling that we were 
heaping coals of fire upon his head. 

“Of course you are free to go or stay, as you 
please. Miles,” said Larry, gently; “but my 
vessel and all that I have are at your disposal* 
Whatever wrong you have done me, whatever 
wrong you have intended to do me, I shall forgive 
and forget, whether you go or stay. ” 

“I am not to be caught by any such cant as 
that,” replied Miles, sourly. 

“I am sincere in all I say,” added Larry. “I 
hope you will breakfast with me, or at least at my 
table; for if my presence is disagreeable to you, I 
will retire.” 


154 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“We can never be friends,” said Miles, stalking 
across the cabin to the steps. “You can neither 
coax nor drive me from my position.” 

He went on deck, and I followed him. Hailing 
a negro in a shore boat, he left the yacht without 
saying good-bye, or thanking us for the trouble we 
had taken to save him from his fate on the rocks. 

“It’s no use, Phil,” said Larry, shaking his 
head. “I have forgiven him in my heart, but his 
teeth are set against me.” 

“Your conscience is clear, whatever he may 
do. He evidently regards your course as an 
attempt to coax him into an agreement.” 

“I don’t want to quarrel with him.” 

AYe sat down to breakfast, and continued to con- 
sider the question; but there seemed to be no way 
to make peace between the cousins. 

“Boat with two ladies coming alongside, sir,” 
said Mr. Spelter, at the companion-way. 

“Ladies!” exclaimed Larry, leaving the table 
and <2foin2f on deck, though not till we had finished 
the meal. 

“Is Mr. Grimsby on board?” I heard some one 
ask in the boat. 

“He is, sir.” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


155 


III the stern-sheets of the boat were two ladies 
and a gentleman, whom the mate invited to come 
on board. The accommodation steps were already 
in place, and the party were assisted to the deck. 
The gentleman had asked if Mr^ Grimsby was on 
board, and I wondered who in this place could 
know Larry. One of the ladies was young and 
very pretty — this was the first observation I made. 
The other lady and the gentleman v/ere elderly 
people. 

“Ah, Mr. Grimsby, I am very glad indeed to 
see you ! ' ’ exclaimed the young lady, as Larry pre- 
sented himself on the quarter-deck, extending her 
hand to him. 

“I thank you; and I assure you I am equally 
happy to see you,’’ replied Larry, taking the 
offered hand. But I fear — ” 

“lam so glad you are safe,” interposed the 
lady. “We heard that a vessel was wrecked yes- 
terday, and we feared it was your yacht.” 

“Fortunately, it was not mine,” added Larry, 
with admirable self-possession. 

“And what a beautiful yacht she is ! ” exclaimed 
the fair l idy, glancing around her at the well- 
ordered deck and rigging. ‘“You can’t tell how 
glad I am that you have come, for I am terribly 


156 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


weary of this dull place. I would rather die in 
England than live here.” 

“You don’t mean that, Lady Eleanor,” inter 
posed the elderly lady. 

“Yes, I do mean it, aunt. It is the stupidest 
place in the world, if it is summer all winter. 
When shall you be ready to sail for England, Mr, 
Grimsby.” 

“In a few days,” answered Larry. 

“The sooner the better. But do let me see the 
yacht. May I go down into the cabin?” 

“Certainly, Lady Eleanor; the yacht is entirely 
at your service. But — ” 

“It is very kind of you to offer us a passage to 
England, Mr Grimsby,” rattled the lady. “But 
how is your grandfather, Sir Philip? It was very 
stupid in me not to inquire before.” 

“He was quite well the last time I heard from 
him,” replied Larry, as he conducted the lady to 
the cabin, 

“Why, it’s a little palace!” exclaimed Lady 
Eleanor. 

“It is a very comfortable cabin.” 

“It is more than that. It is elegant. I’m sure 
we shall be very happy here, aunt.” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


157 


“Certainly Ave ought to be,” replied the elderly 
lady. 

“Pray be seated, ladies,” said Larry. 

“May I look into this state-room?” asked Lady 
Eleanor. 

“Excuse me, but I prefer that you should not 
until it is put in order.” 

The young lady took the seat Avhich Larry 
offered her, and continued to gaze about the cabin . 
a moment. Then she looked earnestly at my 
friend. 

“Dear me, Mr. Grimsby ! I think you look ever 
so much better than you did when I saw you last,” 
she added. 

“When was that?” asked he, quietly. 

“Don’t you remember it?” 

“I really do not.” 

“Why, Mr. Grimsby, what a wicked memory 
yours must be ! ” 

“Really, Lady Eleanor, I don’t think I ever saw 
you before in my life.” 

“Never saAv me ! ” 

“I think you have made a mistake,” laughed 
Larry. 

“Are j^ou not Mr. Grimsby?” 


158 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“I am; but not tho Mr. Grimsby for whom you 
take me. I am Lawrence Giinisby, not Miles.” 

The lady blushed deeply, and was very much 
disturbed. The other visitors also were much 
surprised. 

“Why, you look just like him!” exclaimed 
Lady Eleanor, when she in a measure recovered 
from her confusion. 

“But I look better than he did when you saw 
him last,” added Larry, wickedly. “I fear Miles 
will not consider that a compliment, though I 
do.” 

“I haven’t seen Mi. Miles for more tlian a year; 
but you are the very image of him.” 

“I have been taken for him before. He is my 
cousin.” 

“I was not aware that he had a cousin before,” 
said the gentleman. 

Larry told the strange story of his father, and 
of his own return to Grimsl)y Hall, which was as 
yet known to but few persons in England. 

“But JMr. Miles wrote to me that he should 
come to the Bermudas in April or May, and 
offiu'ed us all a passage home in his yacht.” 

“His yacht Avas wrecked yesterday; but all 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


159 


hands were saved, and Miles landed half an hour 
before you came on board.” 

‘^Then we are not to go to England in Mr, 
Miles’s yacht, after all,” sighed Lady Eleanor, 
with an expression of intense disappointment on 
her face. 

“That will be quite impossible, for the White- 
wing has gone to pieces on the reef.” 

“I anticipated a great deal of pleasure from the 
voyage in a yacht; and now I must go home some 
other way.” 

“Permit me to place my state-room at your dis- 
posal, Lady Eleanor,” added Larry, very politely. 
“We are going to England, and should be delight- 
ed with your company and that of your friends.” 

“You are too kind,” exclaimed the beautiful 
young lady, her face lighting up with pleasure. 

“But we could not think of trespassing upon 
your hospitality to that extent,” interposed Mr. 
Langford, the elderly gentleman. 

“It will be no trespass, for I assure you I shall 
consider myself the obliged party. Certainly 
nothing could be more agreeable to me than such 

o o 

delightf ul company. ’ ’ 

“I thank you with all my heart, Mr. Grimsby; 


160 - 


sea AND SHORE, OR 


and unless my friends object, I shall accept the 
invitation/’ 

“We are certainly very much indebted to yon, 
sir,” added Mr. Langford. “Your polite offer 
places us under great obligations to you. Lady 
Lleanor had set her heart upon going home in a 
yacht. But perhaps we had better consult the 
governor, who is the lady’s uncle, before we give 
you a final answer. I fear we shall annoy you too 
much.” 

“Not at all. I only regret that I can offer you 
but one state-room,” said Larry. 

“Yes, you can; you can offer mine,” I inter- 
posed, for I could not think of occupying my room 
while the owner of the Blanche had only a berth 
in the cabin. 

“Good, Phil! Then we can accommodate you 
all very comfortably.” 

“But we cannot think of depriving you of your 
rooms,” protested the gentleman; and both the 
ladies joined in the protest. 

“We shall be very well berthed in the cabin,” 
replied Larry, as he opened the door of his state- 
room, which had just been put in order by the 
steward. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


161 


“How elegjiiit! It’s a little boudoir!'^ ex- 
claimed Lady Eleanor, chipping her hands with 
deliofht as she entered the room. 

We went over the yacht with our new friends, 
who expressed their satisfaction in the warmest 
terms. They soon took leave of us; but I had 
ordered a boat to be lowered, and Larry and I 
reached the landing-place almost as soon as they 
did. Mr. Langford invited us to visit the res- 
i deuce of the governor, which we did, and were 
duly presented to this distinguished functionary. 
He gave us a very pleasant reception, and asked 
us to dinner that day. We promised to come, 
and then took a tramp to the farthest end of the 
island. 

“Phil, I’ve just got it through my thick head,” 
said my friend, when we had left the governor’s, 
“and I don’t know but I have made a mess of it.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“It seems that Miles came here for a purpose. 
This pretty Lady Eleanor is the lady he* wishes 
to marry, and he came down here to see her and 
convey her home in his yacht; and I have invited 
her to go to England witii me!” 

“I don’t see that any harm has been done.” 

11 


SEA AND SHORE, CE 


102 


“The idea of my sailing this lady home, and 
leaving Miles here, is slightly odd.” 

“You offered Miles a passage, and he declined 
the offer.” 

“He will be the maddest man in the Bermuda 
Islands if the lady and her friends should conclude 
to accept the invitation.” 

“They will accept it, you may depend. When 
a pretty girl, like her ladyship, makes up her 
mind to do anything, she generally carries the 
day. She wants to go home in a yacht, and she 
will go.” 

“Miles may persuade her not to do so.” 

“Miles has not logic or rhetoric enough to do 
anything of the kind.” 

At noon we went on board of the Blanche and 
lunched. We dressed for dinner, and went on 
shi)re in the middle of the afternoon. At the 
landing-place we encountered Miles, who had evi- 
dently been waiting there for us. I concluded 
that he -had seen Lady Eleanor, and that there was 
a tempest gathering, which was now to burst 
upon the head of my friend. 

“Lawrence,” said Miles, as we landed, “it is 
very hard for me to ask a favor of you.” 


THE. TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


163 


“I am sorry it is so hard ; but it is not my fault, 
you know,” replied Larry. “Anything in reason 
that you can ask of me I will grant.” 

“Thank you. How much did your yacht cost 
you?” 

“About three thousand pounds.” 

“I wish to purchase her, and will give you six 
thousand pounds for her,” continued Miles, with 
some hesitation and embarrassment. 

“I do not wish to sell her,” replied Larry, 
astonished at the proposition. “I have had her 
fitted up to suit me, and all my plans for the sum- 
mer depend upon her.” 

“I did not suppose you wished to sell her, and 
therefore I asked you to do so as a favor to me. 
Long before I left home I wrote to some friends 
here, informing them that I should visit the Ber- 
mudas in April or May, and inviting them to take 
passage to England in my yacht. The loss of the 
Whitewiug places me in a very awkward posi- 
tion, from which you alone have the power to re- 
lieve me.” 

“I understand you, and will consider your prop- 
osition,” replied Larry. 

“I will employ all your crew, with one ex- 


164 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


ception, and carry out all your engagements 
with them.” 

‘‘You shall have my answer to-morrow;” and 
Miles left us. 

“If that isn’t cheek, I don’t know what cheek 
is,” I added, as we walked towards the govern- 
or’s. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


165 


CHAPTER XII. 

IN WHICH PHIL AND LARRY DINE AT THE GOVERN- 
OR'S, AND A QUARREL ENSUES. 

ARRY seemed to be in deep thought as we 



1 J walked up the street, and I did not disturb 
him. I was very curious to know what action he 
intended to take upon the astounding proposition 
of his villainous cousin. Since his escape from the 
White wing he had talked a great deal of the 
truths he had learned in his two days’ study of 
the Bible. But I was afraid he was mistaken in 
his Christian duty, which certainly did not require 
him wholly to sacrifice himself to the pleasure of 
one who sought only to injure him. The large 
sum of money which Miles oflfered for the Blanche 
had no influence whatever upon the mind of 
Larry, and I knew that he would not accept any 
more than the fair value of the vessel, if he 
sold her. 


166 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“What do you think of that offer, Phil?” asked 
Larry, after we had walked some distance. 

“I don’t know that I ought to say what I 
think,” I replied. “1 do not wish to influence you 
in a matter between you anil your cousin.” 

“Do you think I ought to accept the offer?” 

“I think you had I'etter settle that question 
yourself, Larry.” 

“Don’t desert me, Phil.” 

“I will not; but the case is a family matter.” 

“If I could have peace with Miles, 1 would 
make him a present of the Blanche,” said Larry, 
very much perplexed. “He has come down from 
his high horse far enough to ask a favor of me, 
for of course the sale of the vessel is all nonsense. 
It doesn’t make a bit of difference with me 
whether I have three thousand pounds more or 
less; but if I can make an arrangement with him 
whereby we can be friends, or at least dwell to- 
gether upon the earth in peace, I shall be satisricd 
to sacrifice my own pleasure, and yours, too, for 
that matter, Phil, for we are to spend the season 
together, and we have laid out a very enjoy- 
able trip.” 

“Never mind me.” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


1G7 


“I will not, if I can heal the breach, Phil; but I 
shall be grateful to you for. not interfering.” 

We reached the governor’s temporary residence, 
for his capital was at Hamilton, on another island. 
We found Miles there, as we expected. He had 
seen Lady Eleanor and her friends, and had been 
apprised of the invitation the party had received 
to go to England in the Blanche. His plan to buy 
the yacht was doubtless an expedient to deprive 
us of our interesting passenger. As the ladies 
had not yet aj)peared, we had an opportunity to 
consider the proposition still further. 

“I have been thinking of your offer. Miles,” 
said Larry, seating himself by the side of his 
cousin. “I understand and appreciate the motives 
which induce you to make it. You know that 
the most earnest desire of my life is to have peace 
and happiness in our family.” 

“What do you mean by ‘our family?’ ” de- 
manded Miles, haughtily. 

“I mean Sir Philip Grimsby and his grandsons, 
as well as all others connected with him or them.’* 

“Go on,” added Miles, with a palpable sneei 
on his face, which was not hopeful for a favorable 
result. 


168 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“I am confident that Sir Philip will treat us 
both alike. If you will sign a paper acknowl- 
edging my rights, agreeing to live at peace with 
me — ’’ 

“I will not,” said he, vehemently. 

“I ask it of you as a favor, that you will simply 
acknowledge what has been established to the 
satisfaction of Sir Philip and his legal advisers, 
and be at peace with me.” 

“I regard you as an impostor,” growled Miles; 
‘‘and I cannot be on friendly terms with such a 
person.” 

“Then without waiting for to-morrow, a decent 
self-respect compels me to decline your proposi- 
tion in regard to the Blanche,” answered Larry, 
very mildly and gently. “At the same time, if 
the Lady Eleanor and her friends conclude to ac- 
cept the invitation I have given them to return to 
England in the Blanche, I will place a berth in 
the cabin— the best I can ofler you — at your 
disposal.” 

“You know very well that I shall refuse such 
an offer. Nothing can induce me to place myself 
under the slightest obligation to you,” answered 
Miles, stiffly and proudly. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


169 


“I think that the obligation — if such you 
choose to regard it — of giving you a berth in 
my cabin is vastly less than that of giving up the 
yacht entirely to you, and setting aside all my 
plans for the season. But you have a right to 
your own opinion.’’ 

The question was settled; and the ladies pres- 
ently entered the drawing-room. 

Ltidy Eleanor was certainly lovely. She was 
not more than seventeen, and a perpetual smile 
played upon her pretty lips. I could not blame 
Miles for loving her, and I could not wonder that 
he was willing to sacrifice his pride so far, for her 
sake, as to ask my friend for his yacht. After 
observing them for half an hour, I concluded that 
the lady was not in love with Miles, if he was 
with her ; indeed, 1 thought she avoided him to 
some extent, and she certainly talked more with 
Larry than with him. Agreeably to the English 
custom, the ladies retired after coffee, and the 
gentlemen sipped their wine, and engaged in con- 
versation. Larry and I, as usual, drank nothing 
stronger than coffee; but I noticed that Miles, 
doubtless preyed upon by his disappointment, 
punished his bottle very severely. If he had 


170 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


been happy, his Aviiie Avould have made him hap- 
pier; as he was ngly, it made him uglier. 

The governor asked me something about my 
friend’s relations to Sir Pnilip, and I told him 
enough of the story to enable him to understand 
them. lie was very much interested, and listened 
to the narrative, at one end of the table, while 
Miles and a government official were pushing the 
bottle at the other. I spoke in a low tone, but 
somehow Miles overheard me, or suspected what 
I was talking about. He rose from his seat, and 
walked rather unsteadily to our end of the table. 
I suspended my narrative, for I had given all the 
material portions of it. 

‘^You are speaking of Lawrence Grimsby. He 
is an impostor and a swindler,” roared Miles, 
savagely. 

“You forget, Mr. Grimsby, that you are in the 
presence of gentlemen,” interposed the governor, 
sternly, as he rose from his chair, and held up his 
hand with a deprecatoiy gesture. 

“I beg your pardon, governor, for saying it be- 
fore you and your friends; l)ut it is the truth,” re- 
plied Miles, more mildly. “If he had the instincts 
of a gentleman, he woidd resent it.” 









4 


14 •!- ’ IT 

• V • 

> > ■' *■* -ij/' '■ 

•. •■ 1 - ^■•■.•1 v - V -.- ■ 


, X 


* ' * 

A 


* 1 




i 


♦ • I 

i >]''• ^ 


. C •. ■ 


• * . « « 






4 

-v 

r <• 


1 . I ' » 

. > < 


» ^ 


'» ^ »,•« « 

' .- 


,M* 


t . > I 


* • f 


' *' • • J*' >r* ^ 


. , • ' • r ' •/' * ■ V,.>r' 

V/ >w- /, • tvA?? ' • V, - v,/./c. . 

\f, «■ ■'. 1?'. . " _ . . • 


\ 


, 'i' . 


A 4 » 

- vs 


■v'V i' 

' v-v ' ;,. 


•» 


I ■ 




. > 


• i 




.. - 1 


' * L 

La •. ■ f •>< • 

) -4 ‘ • ‘ 


I 


. « 

*. « • 


' f 


4 

* % 


r 


% • 


r* ■ 

>> 







. 




• '.I' 


'•-<*. rvy 


’ % 


*■ 

i, 

* \ 




f ♦ . j , .- 

H 1 ' 

• V • \ » 


/ • 




I • ' 




' / 
^'.. . 


* # , . 


t I * 

. t 

4 • t 


, . ■ wS' f. ■ : ^1 


(*■ 


^ t 

t , 

w .*• 


'■•• / 




\ 


, ■.• > 
^7^ .. 


\ 


4 \ 


I 

::w 



Li 


r-. 





» 


^i'w 


\ 






* 


! 


1 



> 


» 

I 


i 


4» 


i 


^ • 


< 


f 


I 


I 


i 


< 


t 


^4 

r 


9 ^ 

I » * > 


• I 




!• 

t * 


' v’ > 

-•> » r 

X f'-'-i,' i 


4 


-I 



% 

' I 

4 . 

I 



• • 
I 


9 


4 . 



' \ 


* 

4 ' 


■.A. 


mAum 


« i ^*t7* 

. > V 'A , . 

* 4 I , 

* • ■ ' * r: rt 


« 

. A 


i^x 


* .' « . 



^ ' ' aJ « 


THE TRAM13 OF A TRAVELLER. 


171 


“Nothing which a. tipsy man can say affects 
me,’’ laughed Larry. 

“Do you mean to insult me?” demanded Miles, 
shaking his fist in his cousin’s face. 

“Mr. Grimsby, take your seat!” said. the gov- 
ernor, angrily. “You insult me by such conduct 
in my presence.” 

“Let my wrongs be my apology!” replied 
Miles, awed and abashed by the words of his 
host, as he dropped into a chair. 

“This is not a question for me to settle,” 
added the governor; “and I will not tolerate a 
quarrel in my presence.” 

“I beg your excellency’s pardon,” stammered 
Miles. “My wrongs for a moment caused me 
to forget myself.” 

“You should apologize to Mr. Lawrence 
Grimsby, whom you assailed with the most op- 
probrious epithets.” 

“I cannot do that, even to retain your excel- 
lency’s esteem.” 

“I do not require it,” interposed Larry. 

“But I do. A qnarrel commenced at my table 
must be ended there,” stormed the choleric gov- 


ernor. 


172 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“I can apologize to your excellency, but not 
to one whom I justly and properly stigmatized, 
though the time and place were badly chosen.” 

“I beg you will not insist upon any further 
apology,” said Larry. 

“If I do not, I trust Mr. Lawrence’s magna- 
nimity will be fully appreciated,” added the 
governor. 

“Since I have been assailed here, and stigma- 
tized as an impostor and a swindler, it is but just 
that my defence should be heard,” continued 
Larry, pleasantly; for he kept his temper re- 
markably well under the savage provocation to 
which he was subjected. “May I ask your ex- 
cellency to read two or three letters to me from 
Sir Philip Grimsby?” 

My friend produced his letters; the governor 
and Mr. Langford read them attentively. Both 
of them knew Sir Philip intimately, and tliey 
left no doubt whatever in their minds in regard 
to Larry’s position. 

“I am entirely satisfied, Mr. Grimsby,” said 
the governor. “If I had any doubts before, I 
have none now. My niece is very anxious to 
accept your kind invitation to return to England 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


1V3 


in your yacht, and in her behalf 1 accept it. Of 
course she will be attended by Mr. and Mrs. 
Langford.” 

“Certainly, sir. The invitation was extended to 
them, and to Mr. Miles also,” answered Larry. 

This was enough to complete the disgust of 
Miles, for the governor had spoken loud enough 
for him to hear, and he soon after retired. The 
conversation was continued for an hour longer by 
those who remained. I deemed it my duty, in a 
quiet way to introduce the fact that Larry was 
already engaged to a lady in New York, so that 
the friends of our fair passenger might not sup- 
pose that the gallant owner of the Blanche in- 
tended to win a titled wife by his courtesy. We 
spent a very pleasant evening with the party in 
the drawing-room, and Lady Eleanor was de- 
lighted when told she was to make the voyage 
in the yacht. At ten o’clock we retired, and 
went on board of the Blanche. We had a long 
talk about the events of the evening; l)ut not a 
particle of progress had been made towards a 
reconciliation with Miles; indeed, such a happy 
event, seemed more distant than ever. 

The climate of the Bermudas at this season 
was delicious. It was neither hot nor cold, and 


174 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


everything was in bloom. Larry and I enjoyed 
the air and scenery. The next morning we took 
another long tramp on shore, visiting some ar- 
row-root and other farms where vegetables were 
raised for the New York market. We were much 
interested in the excursion, and we agreed that a 
tramp on foot affords the best facilities for seeing 
the people and the manners and customs of any 
country. IV e arranged several tramps in Eu- 
rope; and I think if Ave had taken them all, they 
Avould have occupied half a dozen seasons. 

As we were entering the toAvn of St. George, 
which contains about five hundred houses, on our 
return Ave saw a singular-looking being approach- 
inir us. He was a man at least six and a half 
feet high, very gaunt and thin. His pants Avere 
tight, and he Avore the shortest of frock coats, 
whose skirts hardly covered his hips. Both of 
these garments Avere of dark green, and the coat 
Avas buttoned to his chin. On his head Avas a cap 
of the same color, Avith no visor, tipped very far 
over on one side. His only l)eard Avas a tremen- 
dous heavy mustache, Avhich Avas red enough to 
light a match. His hair Avas bushy, and of the 
same color. He looked like an exaggeration of 
some of the British army swells,— privates and 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


175 


non-commissioned officers, — whom I had seen in 
London and other English cities; yet the absence 
of certain distinofiiishiiisf marks assured me that 
he did not belong to the army. He was a person 
who might have been thirty-five, or forty-five. I 
could not form an opinion in regard to his age. 
His nose was very red, and his face flushed: in 
fact, he had raised a very abundant crop of toddy- 
blossoms. Larry and I could not help staring at 
this long, spindling specimen of humanity; and I 
confess that our ri si hies were so rudely exercised 
by his singular appearance that we found it rather 
difficult to preserve a decorous gravity. 

“Good morning, gentlemen,’’ said the lofty 
stranger, raising his little cap, and bowing with 
the most exuberant politeness. “Have I the 
honor to address Mr. Lawrence Grimsby and Cap- 
tain Farringford, of the magnificent yacht which 
is at anchor in the harbor?” 

“Undoubtedly you have, sir,” replied Larry, 
lightly. “May I ask Avdiom I have the honor of 
addressing?” 

“Certainly, sir. Allow me to introduce myself 
as Captain Gregory McFordingham, formerly in 
the service of the Honorable East India Com- 
pany, but now detached and unemployed.” 


176 


SEA AND SHORE ^ OR 


“Happy to make your acquaintance, Captain 
McFordingham ; and I hope we shall not quar- 
rel,” added Larry. 

“Quarrel! What could have suggested such a 
thought to you?” exclaimed he, with a dramatic 
start. “Has any reckless vandal been taking 
liberties with my reputation?” 

“Not that 1 am aware of. Captain McFording- 
ham, for I assure you this is the first time I 
have had the honor to see or hear of you.” 

“Is it possible? And yet we ought to know 
each other better. I imagine that I am address- 
ing my conversation at this particular moment to 
Mr. Grimsby, and not to the gallant Captain Far- 
ringford.” 

“Your brilliant imagination does not mislead 
you,’’ laughed Larry, who enjoyed the tall gen- 
tleman exceedingly. 

“I thought so; but no offence to you, Captain 
Farringford,” continued our new acquaintance, 
touching his miniature cap and bowing to me. 
“I am fully informed in regard to the captain’s 
gallant conduct in the rescue of the oflScers and 
crew of the vessel that was unhappily wrecked 
near Mill’s Breaker the other day. Permit me 


THE THAMrS OF A TRAVELLER. 


177 


to udd, Captain Farringford, tliat I admire and 
applaud your noble gallantly and your magnani- 
mous self-sacrifice. ’ ’ 

“May I ask to whom I am indebted for this 
generous setting forth of my conduct, which cer- 
tainly does not warrant such extravagant praise 
I asked. 

“Ah, captain, true bravery is always modest, 
and you will permit me to say that you are not 
the best and truest exponent of your own noble 
deeds.’’ 

“But will you tell me who said anything to 
you about me and my conduct?” 

“My excellent friend, the governor of the Ber- 
mudas, who is always among the first to exalt 
and magnify a noble and generous act.” 

Perhaps I Avas too suspicious, but I Avas afraid 
the fellow was an agent of Miles Grimsby. Hoav- 
evcr, the governor kneAV the Avhole story of the 
shipAvreck, and his information seemed to have 
been properly obtained. 

“I was about xo say that Ave ought to know 
each other better, Mr. Grimsby, when the nat- 
ural modesty of Captain Farringford diverted the 
conversation, ” continued Captain McFordingham. 

12 


178 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“Undoubtedly yvq oiiglit; and as we Ii;‘,ve been 
remiss in this respect in the past, we must iiijjke 
amends for it in the future,” replied Larry. 

“Quite right, Mr. Grimsby; and, beyond the 
demands of friendship and good fellowship, I 
must ofter the additional inducement of a rela- 
tionship between us, for Sir Philip Grimsby, 
your grandfather — the noblest and wealthiest 
baronet in all England, let me add, in parenthe- 
sis — married a MeFordingham, as you are doubt- 
less aware.” 

Larry confessed that he had not studied the 
genealogy of his family enough to be aware of 
the fact. 

“Well, sir, the deceased and lamented wife 
of Sir Philip had a brother, whose grandson I 
have the honor to be. But I have particular 
business with you, gentlemen; and will you ac- 
cept the hospitality of my poor lodgings for half 
an hour?” 

My friend enjoyed the adventure too much to 
allow it to be broken otf thus j^rematurely, and 
we accompanied Captain MeFordingham to a tap- 
room connected with a lodging-house. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


179 


CHAPTER XIII. 


IN WHICH PHIL AND LARRY DECLINE VARIOUS 
OFFERS. 



APTAIN GREGORY McFORDINGHAM 


Vy doubled up his length of six and one-half 
feet in a chair, and invited us to be seated. I 
could not exactly understand why we were in 
such a place, and with such a man, for I need 
not say that I had no respect for our magnificent 
and over-courteous host. The only explanation 
I could make to myself of our position was, that 
my friend had a keen appreciation of the humor 
of the fellow, who, however, did not seem to bo 
aware that he was amusing us. 

“Brandy and water for me,’’ said the captain, 
as a waiter presented himself at the table. “Gen- 
tlemen, will you have wine, ale, or spirits? For 
my part, I always take brandy in this climate; it 


180 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


agrees with me best. But don’t let me influence 
you. Shall it be brandy?” 

“Thank you, Captain McFordingham; but 
speaking for myself and my accomplished nautical 
friend, we don’t drink brandy,” replied Larry. 

“Ah, I forgot. AVhiskey is the national bev- 
erage of America. Waiter, let it be whiskey,” 
added our long host. 

“Whiskey may be the national beverage of 
America; but we do not use it.” 

“No? Shall it be gin?” 

“It shall not. W e never drink liquor of any 
kind.” 

“Many people do not; though I confess that 
the fact is a paradox to me. In my estimation, 
good French brandy is the most wholesome drink 
a person can take, especially in this climate. 
But of course I respect your judgment.” 

“Thank you. You are very considerate, and 
even magnanimous. But in regard to brandy I 
disagree with you utterly,” replied Larry. 

“I cannot speak wdth authority in regard to the 
wines of this place, for I never drink them, pre- 
ferring brandy, as I said. But I dare say they 
have good sherry.” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


181 


‘‘As good as any in the United Kingdom,” 
interposed the waiter. 

“I dare say it is good enough; but we don’t 
drink sherry,” laughed La^r3^ 

“Ah, Madeira. How is your Madeira, waiter?” 

“Excellent, sir; better nor it is in England, 
Captain O’Crackboiie says so; which he ought to 
know, sir.” 

“Excuse us, sir; but we don’t drink Madeira. 
We heard of a man who was poisoned by drink- 
ing it.” 

“Bless my ’eart! Not with our Madeira, 
sir!” exclaimed the waiter, with horror. 

“I can’t say it was yours; but we never touch 
any Madeira,” answered Larry, shaking his head. 

“Then let it be Port. Have 3 011 any real Port, 
waiter — not the decoction of logwood?” 

“Our Port comes to us direct from ’Porto, 
which it is good from nowhere else, sir, you 
know.” 

“We don’t drink Port, captain. In fact, we 
don’t drink wine at all, sir.” 

“Is it possible?” ejaculated our tall host, with 
an expression of pity on his face. “They have 
the best of English ales here.” 


182 


SEA AND SIIOKE, Oil 


“Yes, sir; Hinglish hale in its purity,’' added 
the waiter, with enthusiasm. 

‘‘Alsop, Bass, Falkirk. Let me recommend 
Falkirk.” 

“I think we will not drink any Falkirk.” 

“Alsop’s very good,” said the captain. ‘‘I used 
to drink Alsop myself, once. But what is the 
use of wasting one’s time over half a dozen 
glasses of ale, when one of brandy will produce 
the same effect? Waiter, bring Alsop.” 

“I beg your pardon. Captain McFordingham, 
but I believe I neglected to say that we don’t 
drink Alsop.” 

“Then Bass. Some people prefer Bass.” 

“Doubtless they do; but we do not,” added 
Larry; “it is rather heady.” 

“What else have you, waiter?” asked our host, 
who evidently regarded his guests as altogether 
too fastidious. 

“1 think we ’ave named everything we ’as, sir, 
which it is the best to be ’ad anywhere.” 

“I don’t like to be too abrupt in these little 
social interchano:es ; but perhaps it is now time 
for me to say that we don’t drink anything,” con- 
tinued Larry, with becoming gravity. 



Captain McFordingham Astonished. Page 182 





/HJ 


$ 


t 




} 



r* 





) 



THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


183 


“Don’t drink anything!” exclaimed Captain 
McFordingham, springing to his feet, and elevat- 
ing his entire length before us. “Is it possible?” 

“My amiable marine friend here never tasted 
liquor, wine, or beer in his life,” added Larry, 
pointing to rue. “A year ago I concluded to fol- 
low his illustrious example.” 

“Is it possible that you are teetotalers?’ 

“We are.” 

“I’ve heard of such, but I never saw one be- 
fore,” said our host, with an expression of amaze- 
ment, as he dropped into his chair again. “Of 
course I can’t drink brandy and water alone.” 

“1 really can’t advise you to do so,” responded 
Larry. “I think you observed that you liad busi- 
ness with us.” 

“I did, and you were kind enough to come here 
with me. With your permission, I will proceed 
to open my business. — Nothing, waiter,” he 
added, with dignity, to the man who was waiting 
for his order. “1 never drink alone in presence 
of company.” 

“We have some RocheUe brandy, which it is 
very good, sir.” 

“None,” added the captain, waving his hand 
at the waiter, who retired. 


184 


SEA ANT) SHORE, OR 


At that moment Miles Grimsby entered the tap- 
room from an inner apartment, and I concluded 
that his lodofim^s were in the house. I saw that 
he gave a start when he perceived us; and he 
then walked to the table, where we sat. 

“I beg your pardon, gentlemen,” said he, lift- 
ing his Scotch cap. “The Unicorn is coming 
into the harbor at this moment — ” 

“Is it possible?” exclaimed Captain McFord- 
inghani, who seemed to have no acquaintance 
with Miles. 

“I saw her from my window up stairs. I do 
not know how long she will remain; but I wish 
to speak a word to you, Mr. Grimsby, as soon 
as possible, for I shall go to New York in her, 
and thence to England, unless some different 
arrangement should be made.” 

“Then, if you please, gentlemen, will you ex- 
cuse me for half an hour?” interposed our tall 
friend. “If the steamer is coming in, I have a 
bit of business to do.” 

“If we are not here when you return, you will 
find us on board of the Blanche,” replied Larry; 
and the tall captain bowed himself off. 

Miles Grimsby took the chair he had vacated, 
and the waiter immediately presented himself. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


185 


“A bottle of sherry,” said Miles. 

“Sherry, sir, which it is very good sherry we 
’ave, too, sir,” answered the man, who was so 
fluent in recommending the merchandise of the 
house that he might have been supposed to share 
its profits. 

As Larry was not Miles’s keeper, however 
much he needed one, my friend did not interfere 
with the order. The waiter brought three glasses 
and set them before us. Although Larry and I 
protested, the man filled ours. 

“I hardly expect you to drink wine with me,” 
said Miles. 

“You are aware that we don’t drink wine with 
any one, even at the risk of being regarded as 
prigs,” answered Larry. 

“We need not discuss that question. Have you 
finally decided in regard to the yacht, Law- 
rence?” 

“I have. I cannot accept your liberal offer. 
Miles. But a berth in the cabin is at your dis- 
posal,” answered Larry. “As you are doubtless 
aware. Lady Eleanor and her friends have con- 
cluded to take passage in the Blanche.” 


186 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“I am aware of it,’’ replied Miles, draining 
his gdass; “and your mention of the fact is the 
greatest insult you can cast upon me,” he added, 
bringing his fist down upon the table with a force 
that slopped half the wine out of the glasses be- 
fore us. 

“I did not intend it as an insult; and, if you 
regard it ^as such, I tender my apology,” said 
Larry, mildly. 

“Not content with robbing me of my fortune 
and my title, you seek to turn the Lady Eleanor 
against me,” raved Miles. 

“Indeed, I seek nothing of the kind.” 

“When 1 c^dled upon her this morning, slie de- 
clined to see me,” said Miles, savagely. “Yes- 
terday she received me with the utmost kindness ; 
to-day she discards me. I owe all this to you.” 

“If you will excuse me^ I think you owe it to 
yourself.” 

“Don’t taunt me. You have done your worst 
already. You have invited the Lady Eleanor to 
go to England in your yacht. You have seen her; 
you know her. Shall I not hear, when I reach 
Englajid, that she is engaged to you?” 

“No I” exclaimed Larry, vehemently. “Or, if 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


187 


you do, coiitnidict it on the instant; for it will 
not be true. You know that I am en^ao-ed to 

o o 

Blanche F ennimore . ’ ’ 

“Blanche Fennimore ! sneered Miles; “what 
is she but a beggar?” 

“That does not alter the case.” 

“Lady Eleanor is young, beautiful, and the 
laughter of an earl. She consents to take pas- 
sage in your yacht to England. Am I fool 
enough to suppose you would not discard Blanche 
Feniiiinore for such a prize as Lady Eleanor?” 

“Most certainly, I would not discard her for a 
countess, a duchess, or even a princess.” 

“You may think so now; but I know the world 
better,” growled Miles. “Then you used every 
effort yesterday, at dinner, to prejudice the peo- 
ple there against me.” 

“You should not charge me with the conse- 
quence of your own action. Miles. I am willing 
to forgive and forget the wrong you have done 
mer.” 

“Are you, indeed?” sneered Miles. 

“When you charged me with being an impos- 
tor, yesterday, I only defended myself. I could 
do no less. And I think 1 proved all I said by 


188 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


Sir Philip’s letters. Your plans have miscarried ; 
but you should blame yourself, not me. You lost 
your yacht in an attempt to kidnap me, and dis- 
pose of me, in what manner I know not. If you 
have lost the Lady Eleanor, it is the result of 
your own misconduct. I have offered to compro- 
mise with you, and you refuse. I can do no 
more.’’ 

“Give me no more of your cant. You will 
not sell your yacht for double her value?” 

“I will not. But I will give you a berth in 
her, so that you may be with Lady Eleanor dur- 
ing the voyage to England.” 

“You know that I will not go ill the same 
vessel with you. I must go to New York in the 
Unicorn.” 

“I have offered the best I can,” added Larry. 

Miles abused him for some time longer; but 
my friend was patient and mild, and not onc^ 
did he exhibit any anger. He was very firm ir 
the maintenance of his own rights, but willing t. 
sacrifice a great deal, even for one who had used 
him so meanly. His conduct seemed to the 
direct fruit of his two days’ study ^ the Bible, 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


18 :; 


of which he had spoken so enthusiastically to me. 
Suddenly Miles rose and left the house. 

“Can I do any different, Phil?” he asked, as 
his cousin departed. 

“No. I think you have done all that a Chris- 
tian can do. You are willing to forgive him, and. 
to do all you can for him, even at great sacrifice 
to yourself,” I replied. 

“I am happy to find you still here,” said Cap- 
tain McFordingham, returning at this moment. 
“The steamer has to wait for the tide, and will 
not come in for an hour. Ah, gentlemen!” 

The tall captain suddenly gave a tragic start, 
and looked very savage, as he regarded the half- 
filled wine-glasses before us. 

“I beg your pardon, gentlemen; but I do not 
wish to consider myself insulted,” continued he. 
“You decline to drink with me, but with another 
more favored individual you waive all scruples. 
I fought a duel in India with an officer who re- 
fused to drink with me under circumstances less 
glaring tha|i the present.” 

APerhap^-P^Miall enable you to spare some of 
your valuf'^i^Je^ breath if I say that we have not 
drank; that wo declined to drink with this gentle- 


190 


SEA AND SirORE, OR 


man, as we did with you,” added Larry, rather 
impatiently, for Captain McFordingham’s humoi 
was becoming rather stupid. 

‘‘Pardon me, sir; but your glasses are half 
emptied,” said the captain. 

“What isn’t in them now, is on the table. But, 
excuse me, I think you said you had business with 
us.” 

“A gentleman drinks with a gentleman, and 
only with a gentleman. To refuse to drink with 
a gentleman, is equivalent to telling him that he is 
no gentleman. You declined to drink with me, on 
the i)lea that you were both teetotalers ; and I 
accei)ted the plea, refraining from drinking my- 
self. I find that you took wine with another, in 
form if not in substance. Am 1 to understand 
that you consider me no gentleman r” demanded 
Captain McFordingham, with a lowering brow. 

“Certainly you are to understand nothing of the 
sort,” rej)lied Larry, rather impatiently. 

“And you, sir?” added the captain, turning 
to me. 

“Certainly not,” I answered. 

“Not a gentleman?” » 

“You are not to understand that I consider you 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


191 


no gentleman. I express no opinion wliritever on 
that subject/’ I added. 

“Then we will reserve the whole question for 
another occasion,” said the captain, pompously. 

“I have the honor to be a purveyor of provis- 
ions, vegetables and fruits; and I offer my services 
in supplying your yacht with any of these articles 
you may desire, in largo or in small quantities.” 

I looked at Captain Gregory jMcFordinghani 
after this communication, and I could hardly re- 
frain from laughing in Lis face. The imijortant 
business introduced with such a flourish, was the 
sale of a barrel or two of potatoes, a box of oranges 
and a few cabbaores. 

“If this is your business, I must refer you to 
Captain Faningford,” laughed Larry. 

The tall gentleman looked at me. 

“And, in turn, I must refer you t ) the steward 
of the yacht,” I added. 

“I always prefer to deal directly with princi- 
pals,” said the purveyor of cabbages. 

“In this instance the steward is the principal,” 
I replied. “If he wants' any cabbages or turnips, 
he has the commercial cunning to enable him to 
purchase them.” 


192 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“I shall take the liberty to call upon him imnfie- 
cliately.’’ 

‘^If you have no tuither business with us, 1 shall 
beg the privilege of saying good morning,” said 
Larry. 

“I beg yor.r pardon; but I have another matter 
in my mind. 1 wish to return to England. The 
business of purveying is not as profitable here as 1 
had been led to suppose, and I purpose to abandon 
the islands. I concluded that when my desire be- 
came known to you, it would procure me an invi- 
tation to take passage in your yacht.” 

“My dear Captain McFordingham, we haven’t 
a berth in the Blanche which is long enough for 
you,” protested Larry; “and I trust that this fact 
will be deemed a sufficient excuse for not inviting 
you.” 

“Perhaps you misunderstand me. I am aware 
that your cabin is already full; and I shall be quite 
content with a place m the steerage, in the forecas- 
tle, or on the kitchen floor,” added the purveyor. 

“My dear sir, I could not think of inviting a 
person of your distinguished character to take a 
long voyage with me, vdthout being able to give 
him suitable accommodations. I fear we must 


THE THAMES OF A TRAVELLER. 


193 


decline the honor of your company,” continued 
Larry, with great good-nature, as we moved to- 
wards the door of the tap-room. 

“Mr. Grimsby, this is the third time you have 
insulted me to-day, and I demand satisfaction,’’ 
said Captain McFordingham, savagely. 

“Good morning, sir,” said Larry, as we walked 
out into the street. 


IS 


194 


SEA AND SHOllE, OR 


CHAPTER XIV. 


IN WHICH PHIL AND LARRY TAKE ANOTHER TRAMP, 
AND AN AFFAIR OF HONOR IMPENDS. 

‘‘ TOP a moment, Mr. Grimsby The woiiiid- 



kl/ eel honor of a gentleman is not to be healed 
so easily,” said Captain McFordingham, placing 
his hand upon the shoulder of my friend. 

“I am not aware, sir, that I have wounded your 
honor in any manner,” replied Larry. 

“Three times you have intimated that I am no 
gentleman; an insult, sir, to which I cannot 
submit.” ^ 

“I assure you I had no intention of insulting 
you, and am not yet aware that 1 have done so. 
If I have, I beg your pardon. Good morning.” 

We walked towards the landing-place, where 
our boat was waiting for us; but we were closely 
followed by the captain, who, it seemed plain 
enough, was intent on picking a quarrel. We 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


195 


stepped into the boat, and were pulled to the 
Blanche. 

“That fellow is determined to get up a quarrel,” 
said Larry. 

“He hasn’t succeeded so far.” 

“And he will not. He amused me prodigiously 
at first. One would suppose from his manner 
that he was a member of the royal family. I 
don’t think I should care to quarrel with him — he 
is too tall.” 

“He is a bully, too, and doubtless a coward 
also.” 

During our absence tlieBlanche had been dressed 
with the colors of all nations, and presented a 
very striking appearance. Larry had invited the 
governor. Lady Eleanor, Mr. and Mrs. Langford, 
and others, to dine on board that afternoon, and 
we found the in-eparationsin a very forward state. 
At four o’clock the party came off and we enter- 
tained them in princely style. Miles had been 
invited, in spite of his bad conduct; but, true 
to his malicious nature, not even the attractions 
of Lady Eleanor’s presence could induce him to 
come; though, I think, no one mourned his 
absence. The steamer had come into the harbor, 


196 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


and was to sail the next day at noon, when the tide 
turned. We had decided to get under way at the 
same time, after ascertaining that our passengers 
v/ould be ready. 

The next morning Larry and I made another 
tramp on the island, for we enjoyed these walks, 
and the delicious air, veiy much. We went as far 
as the Martello Tower, at the western extremity 
of St. George, and on our return ascended Cherry- 
stone Hill. On a cliff below we seated ourselves, 
to rest after the fatigues of the morning, for 
we had yet a couple of hours to spare. The place 
we had chosen was a retired spot, but so pleas- 
ant that we wished our departure was to be de- 
layed a few days longer, that we might visit it 
again. We enjoyed the quiet of the scene for an 
hour, talking over our plans for the future, and 
then started for the harbor. We had gone but a 
short distance when we discovered Miles Grimsby 
and Captain McFordingham apprtaiching us. 

‘‘They run together, now,” said Larry. 

“I see they do; but I didn’t more than suspect 
it before,” I replied. 

“I would rather avoid than meet them,” added 
Larry. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


197 


“So would I,” and turning to the left, we took 
a path which would have led us away from our 
quarrelsome acquaintances. 

But Miles and the captain quickened their pace, 
and soon placed themselves in front of us, so that 
escape, without actually taking to our heels, which 
both of us regarded as rather undignified for the 
owner and captain of a first-class yacht, was im- 
possible. 

“I am glad, gentlemen, that you have accepted 
the summons contained in my letter of last even- 
ing,” said Captain McFordingham. 

“What letter?” asked Larry. 

“My letter.” 

“I have received no letter from you, or any one 
else, for that matter, since I came to the Ber- 
mudas.” 

“Then why are you here?” demanded Captain 
McFordingham. 

“We came out for a walk.” 

“Am I to understand that you deny having re- 
ceived my letter, in which I referred you to my 
friend, Mr. Miles Grimsby, who is here present, 
to act for me?” 

“I did not receive it, and have no idea of it# 
contents,” answered Larry. 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


198 

“Perhaps it is of little consequence whether you 
received it or not, since you are here with your 
friend,’’ added the captain, magiiificenlly. ‘‘I 
trust you are prepared to give me the satisfaction 
1 require.” 

“I don’t quite understand you.” 

“In one word, my note to you was a challenge.” 

“In another word, then, I decline it,” an- 
swered Larry, promptly and decidedly. 

“Am I to understand that you refuse to give me 
the satisfaction that a gentleman has a right to 
demand?” 

“That depends upon the nature of the satisfac- 
tion demanded.” 

“You insulted me — 

“Excuse me, sir; I did not insult you. The 
statement is absurd.” 

“Absurd?” 

“Ridiculously so.” 

“You declined to drink with me, and did drink 
with another.” 

“I did not drink with another.” 

“Mr. Grimsby, may I appeal to you?” 

“The glasses were all filled, and I noticed af- 
terwards that they were only half full. I presume 
they drank,” replied Miles, sourly. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLKR. 


199 


“It is useless to jirgue the point, Larry, I in- 
terposed. “Let us return to the town.’’ 

“Not till you have given me the satisfaction I 
demand, ’ ’ bullied the tall captain. “Recognizing 
this gentleman as the one who spoke to you during 
our hiterview, he was kind enough to be my 
friend.” Ami he bowed to Miles. 

Captain MjFordinghain went over the argument 
by which he reasoned himself into the belief that 
he had been insulted. Of course we understoed 
now that the fellow had been employed by Miles 
to provoke a quarrel with Larry, and to make the 
most of it. The time seemed to be chosen just at 
the moment when the Unicorn was to sail for New 
York. 

“I decline, on principle, to engage in a duel,” 
said Larry. 

“But if you don’t give me satisfaction, I shall 
be compelled to take it,” replied the captain 
loftily. 

“Though I refuse to fight a duel, I know how 
to defend myself when attacked,” replied Larry. 
“I am not a non-resistant.” 

“I took you for a brave man; I trust I shall not 
find you a coward.” 


200 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“I am not coward enough to fight a duel. If 1 
have done wrong, I can ask God to forgive me; if 
I have injured my fellow-man, I can ask him to 
forgive me.’’ 

“We are losing time,” interimsed Miles, ner- 
vously, as he glanced at his watch. “If there 
is any business to be done here, let it be done 
at once.” 

“The gentleman who has insulted me is evi- 
dently a coward,” said the captain with a sneer. 

“I have nothing to do with your quarrel, and 
am only here as your friend, Captain McFording- 
ham. My time is precious,” added Miles, pro- 
ducing a pair of large pistols. “I suppose Cap- 
tain Farringford is to be regarded as the friend of 
Mr. Lawrence Grimsby.” 

‘T am his friend.” 

“Let us walk over to the cliff, where we are 
not likely to be disturbed,” replied Miles, as he 
led the way. 

I followed him, and in a moment we were on 
the rock overlooking the sea, with a precipice 
beneath us. 

“You have the choice of weapons. Captain Far- 
ringford; but, as it was not supposable that you 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


201 


would choose anything but pistols, in these days, 
I brought nothing else. Will you examine them 

“1 will;” and I took the two pistols in my 
hand. 

“Are they loaded?” I asked. 

“They are not. In an affair of honor the pis- 
tols should be loaded in the presence of both 
seconds,” replied Miles. 

“Have you any other pistols with you, in case 
I decline to accept these?” I asked. 

‘ ‘I have not. They are regular duelling pistols, 
and to reject them would be to resort to a mean 
subterfuge.” 

“Precisely so,” I replied, tossing them over 
the cliff into the sea. 

“Villain!” exclaimed Miles, rushing upon me. 

“Mild words, if you please,” I replied, holding 
up my hand to him, to deprecate any violence. 
“If you lay your hand on me. I’ll throw you over 
after them.” 

Miles retreated a step, and shouted to his prin- 
cipal. He was apparently afraid that I would put 
my threat in execution. Captain McFordingham 
stalked up to the place where I stood, though, as 
“discretion is the better part of valor,” I deemed 


202 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


it advisable to retreat a short distance from the 
edge of the cliff. 

“You called me, Mr. Grimsby,’’ said he. 

“I did,” replied Miles; “and I have to an- 
nounce a piece of treachery on the part of Mr. 
Lawrence Grimsby’s second — ” 

“I object to being called a second. We did not 
come here to figlit a duel, and have no intention 
of being forced into such an affair,” I interposed, 
for, now that the pistols were at the bottom of 
the sea, I thought it better to insist upon our 
views of the subject. 

“Captain Farringford has thrown the pistols 
overboard,” continued Miles. 

“Thrown them overboard — has he?” And the 
face of the tall captain lowered. “Cowards!” 

“That’s a cheap expletive,” I answered. 

“Honorable dealing was not to be expected 
from cowards,” sneered Captain McFordingham. 

“Of course we are not to submit to any such trif- 
ling as this. Onr honor is wounded, and satisfac- 
tion is denied us.” 

Larry laughed ; he could not help it. Perhaps 
he would not have laughed if I had not thrown the 
pistols overboard. But I sympathized with him, 


THK TllAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


203 


though other considerations had some effect in 
controlling my risibles. The affair was a farce; 
but I could not forget that my friend, and not my- 
self, was the subject of wrath. 

“Come, Larry, we will return to the town,*’ 
said I. 

“Not yet,” interposed Captain McFordingham. 
“I am not to be trifled with. I have been wound- 
ed in my honor, and, as S!itisfaction is denied me, 
I intend to take summary vengeance. Mr. Law- 
rence Grimsby, my affair is with you. Captain 
Farringford is only your shadow. When he has 
paid me six i^ound ten for the pistols he threw 
into the sea, I shall have no further claim upon 
him.” 

“May I ask what you mean by summary ven- 
geance?” asked Larry, with a pleasant smile. 

“I mean to fl )g you as you deserve. 1 mean to 
teach you that a gentleman cannot be insulted 
with impunity. I mean that your cowardly con- 
duct shall not escape its just retribution.” 

“I do not purpose to be flogged, Captain Mc- 
Fordingham, in spite of the fact that you are one 
foot taller than I am. I wish to avoid a quarrel, 
and I hope to be able to do so. Speaking of 


204 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


cowards, in my opinion you and your second, as 
you call him, though he is really your principal 
and your employer, came out here to do me harm. 
You dogged me, and are determined to force a 
quarrel upon me. .Permit me to say that I regard 
your conduct as cowardly in the extreme.” 

“Do you mean to insult me again?” demanded 
the bully. 

“1 was only arguing the point. You expressed 
your opinion on cowardice, and I claim the piivi- 
lege of expressing mine,” replied Larry, with his 
usual good nature. “Having done so, I shall bid 
you good morning once more.” 

“Stop, sir! said the captain, in a voice which 
was intended to be very stern and dignilied. 

Larry walked towards the town, and I started 
to follow him. The tall ruffian, finding that no 
further attention was given him, laid his hand 
violently upon my friend’s coat collar. I sprang 
forward to assist him, for he was a couple of rods 
ahead of me. 

“Stop,” said Miles to me. “You cannot inter- 
fere with this quarrel any further;” and at the 
instant he laid his hand upon me. 

I shook him ofl* in the twinkling of an eye, 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


205 


whereat he sprang upon me again, his anger ex- 
cited to the maddest pitch. I struck him then, 
but not till then, and he went down, for, trembling 
for the safety of Larry in the hands of such a 
giant as the bully, my blow was a heavy one. I 
rushed towards my friend then, but saw that he 
had no need of any assistance from me. He 
stood at bay, pointing at his antagonist the revol- 
ver, which I had insisted he should carry in 
his pocket. I had the mate to it myself, and I 
produced it now, as Miles, picking himself up, 
rushed upon me with a stone in his hand. The 
pistol had a cooling eifect upon his ardor, and he 
halted. I do not know whetlier the scene, in its 
present phase, was to be regarded as a serious or 
a ludicrous one; but Larry and I each covered 
his man with the muzzle of the revolver. The 
weapons had a marvellous effect in dampening the 
ardor of the fierce combatants. We were mas-* 
ters of the situation. 

“Then you are prepared to assassinate us,” 
rvad Captain McFordingham, eyeing the revolver 
of my friend. 

“I hope you will not make it necessary for us 
to resort to so unpleasant an expedient,” answered 
Larry. “It is your next move, gentlemen.” 


206 


SEA AND riio::e, on 


“Being armed yourselves, you threw our wenp- 
ons into the sea,'’ replied the enptain. “Doubt- 
less this is your idea of honorable conduct.” 

“I do not know that it is of any use to waste 
words,” added Larry. “You introduced yourself 
to me yesterday with the inlention of provoking 
a quarreL On the most ridiculous jjretence you 
chose to consider yourself insulted. You came 
out here with pistols; but I don’t believe you 
intended to tight a duel any more than I did. 
You have not the courage to stand up before a 
loaded pistol. If you purposed to go Ihrougli 
the form of a duel, it was your intention to tire 
before the word was given, or in some other man- 
ner to do the villainous work of your employer. 
You have my view of the matter, and 1 have 
nothing more to say, except to inform you that 
I am prepared to defend myself under all cir- 
cumstances.” 

“You are in a situation to insult me just now. 
If we ever meet again — and we shall meet again 
— I shall teach you what it is to insult a gentle- 
man. It is cowardly to point a revolver at an 
unarmed man.” 

“It would be if he were not an assassin,” re- 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


207 


plied Larry. “Come, Phil. The business of this 
occasion seems to be finished, and we may ad- 
journ.” 

With the pistols still in our hands, we walked 
slowly towards the town. IS either Miles nor his 
agent offered to follow us. 

••That was a bold act of yours, Phil, but it 
saved the day for us,” said my friend. 

“Throwing the pistols overboard was a very 
simple expedient; and I could think of no other 
way to stave off the consequences,” 1 answered. 
“The sooner we get away from this place, the 
better.” 

In a short time we reached the landing-place, 
where we found Lady Eleanor and her friends 
prepared to embark. 


208 


SEA AND SHORE. OR 


CHAPTER XV. 


IN WHICH PHIL AND LARRY WITNESS THE CAPTURE 
OF A MAN-EATER. 

ITH our passengers came the governor and 



other friends to bid them adieu on board 


the yacht. 

‘‘We have been waiting for you/’ said his 
excellency. 

“We were detained by a disagreeable incident 
near Cherrystone Hill/’ replied Larry. 

“A disagreeable incident! Pray, what was 
it?” asked the governor. 

“It was nothing less than an attempt to com- 
pel me to fight a duel.” 

“Mr. Grimsby, of course.” 

“He was not to be the principal, for I don’t 
think Miles considers it prudent to stand before 
the muzzle of a loaded pistol,” laughed Larry; 
“so he employed a gentleman who claims to be 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


209 


your excellency’s friend to do the business for 
him.” 

“My friend! Who could it be?” 

“His name is Captain Gregory McFording- 
ham . ’ ’ 

“Pshaw!” exclaimed the governor, contempt- 
uously. “He is a convict, sentenced to transpor- 
tation for ten years.” 

“Whew!” added Larry, glancing at me. “But 
he was a captain in India, I understand.” 

“Never. Possibly he was a soldier in the In- 
dian army. I don’t know. He was the footman 
of Viscount Bergamot, and was sent here for rob- 
bing his master. In the distinguished families 
where he has been employed he picked up a 
knowledge of high life, and a vocabulary of high- 
sounding phrases. Somebody here nicknamed 
him the captain. He is not without abilities; 
and, as his sentence has nearly expired, he was 
permitted to carry on business for himself in buy- 
ing and selling vegetables. He shall be taken 
care of . ” 

We assisted our guests into the boats, and on 
the way to the yacht Larry related our adven- 
ture to the governor. It was as evident to him 
14 


210 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


as to US that McFordiiigliam had been employed 
by Miles Giimsby; and he promised to arrest 
both of them on his return. 

“But Miles will leave in this steamer,” sug- 
gested Larry. 

“I will see that he does not,” said the gover- 
nor. 

“I hope your excellency will not detain him.” 
added my friend. “He can do us no harm now; 
and, as he is my cousin, I have no desire to have 
him punished.” 

“You are too lenient towards him. I half ex- 
pected to hear of a challenge after that affair at 
my table.” 

“I don’t think Miles himself indulges in chal- 
lenges,” added Larry. “But, please don’t de- 
tain him; if you do, the blame of it will rest 
upon me. I only hope you will not permit the 
captain to leave the islands, as he intends to 
do.” 

“He is well known on board of the steamer, 
and her officers would not dare to take him.” 

Our party went on board of the yacht, where 
we lunched. Lady Eleanor was in high spirits, 
and was more delighted than ever with her state- 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


211 


room, which had been put in order for her use. 
The steamer was still in the harbor, though she 
seemed to be all ready to sail. The governor’s 
boat came alongside the yacht, and his excellency 
took leave of his friends. Our fore and main sails 
were set, and the anchor hove short. 

“Heave up the anchor!” I called, when Larry 
told me. he was ready. “Stand by the jib-hal- 
yards.” 

“Anchor aweigh, sir,” reported Mr. Spelter. 

“Hoist the jib!” I added. 

As we caught the gentle breeze, and the yacht 
began to move, our passengers waved their hand- 
kerchiefs, and the governor returned the salute. 
1 saw that his excellency pulled to the steamer; 
but I was confident that Miles had not vet sfone 
on board of her. The pilot took us safely through 
the intricacies of the navigation, and we were soon 
in ten fathoms of water outside the islands. 

“Keep her northeast by east,” I said, as I 
gave out the course. 

“Northeast by east, sir,” replied the quarter- 
master, at the wheel. 

“This is perfectly delightful, Mr. Grimsby,” 
exclaimed Lady Eleanor, when the pilot had left 
us. 


212 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“I think myselt,’‘ replied Larry. 

“It is so iRRch pleasanter than a steamer! 
There is no clanging of machinery, and no odor 
of oil. Keally, it seems to me like sailing in a 
fairy barge.” 

“We must not crow till we get out of the 
woods, I ventured to suggest. “If we should 
have such a storm as we had coming dpwn, I’m 
afraid your ladyship would not enjoy it.” 

“I like storms; they are so grand and beauti- 
ful,” she replied. 

“What’s that boat?” asked Larry. 

It had just come out from behind a reef, and 
contained two men. I examined the per£;ons in 
the boat with a glass. 

“One of them is McFordingham,” I sa'd, when 
I had made out the long, lank figure of tha cap- 
tain. 

“Then Miles must be the other,” added Larry. 

“What are they doing out here?” 

“They have come out here to take the steamer, 
withov": a doubt. Probably they were afraid the 
governor would hear about the affair at Cherry- 
striie Hill, and put them in the calaboose for their 
’ionduct.” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


213 


“But the steamer won’t take McFordingham, 
who is a convict. ” 

“Certainly not.” 

“Pray what’s that black thing in the water?” 
asked Lady Eleanor, as she pointed to an obj^.t 
only a few yards astern of the yacht. 

“That’s the ])ack-lin of a shark,” I replied. 

“Isn’t that the same fellow that was waiting fc : 
me the other day?” asked Larry. “I should cej 
tainly have dropped into the water if Captain Gar 
board had not shown me that shark.” 

“Is it really a shark?” added her ladyship. 

“There isn’t the slightest doubt of it.” 

“A regular man-eater, too,” said Mr. Spelter. 

“I should like to see more of him,” continued 
Lady Eleanor, straining her eyes to make out the 
outline of the fish, which swam on the surface of 
the water. 

“So should I,” replied Larry. “I don’t want 
that fellow to follow us all the way to England. 
He’s a blackguard, and a dangerous companion. 
If any one should be so unfortunate as to fall over- 
board, the rascal would gobble him up.” 

“It is a bad sign to have a shark following a 
vessel,” said Spelter. 


214 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“I don’t care for the sign, but I don’t like the 
fellow,” added Larry. 

“But I can’t see him,” said Lady Eleanor. 

“We will catch him if you say so, Mr. Grims- 
by,” continued the mate. 

“Can you do it?” 

“To be sure we can. Our owner last year used 
to go a sharking every season down to Nantucket 
and the Vineyard. We have all the gear on 
board — shark-hook^ grains, lances.” 

“Catch him, then. Sharks are the natural ene- 
mies of mankind — the pirates of the ocean,” re- 
plied Larry. 

“Mr. Cheeseman, you can get up the shark- 
hooks, and rig the tackle for that fellow,” said the 
mate. 

“Ay, ay, sir,” answered the second mate, ap- 
parently pleased with the anticipated sport. 

“That’s a big fellow,” continued Mr. Spelter. 

“He isn’t less than twenty feet long, and may 
be thirty. He would bite a man in two as a 
chicken does a worm, and only make two mouth- 
fuls of him. He is an ugly fellow.” 

“That he is,” I replied. “A bigger one than 
that followed the Michigan, when I was in her, 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAY ELL KR. 


216 


for a week. Shall we lower the mainsail, Mr. 
Spelter, and haul him in oyer the stern?” 

“Yes, sir; but we must kill him before we get 
him on deck, or he will break things. I have 
no doubt he weighs twelve or fifteen hundred 
pounds.” 

“Probably he does. Lower the mainsail and 
top up the boom. We can rig a snatch-block 
under it, and then swing him in by a rope made 
fast to his tail.” 

The mainsail was lowered and carefully secured. 
The boom was topped up as far as it would go, 
and the snatch-block rigged under it. The shark- 
hook was a very large one, with a fathom of chain 
attached to it, so that the voracious monster should 
not bite off the line. It was then made fast to a 
strong rope, and baited with a strip of salt pork. 
Cheeseman, as he was an old hand at the business, 
took the line, while six of the crew were mustered 
on the quarter-deck to assist. Mr. Spelter stood 
by with the grains in his hand, to be used when 
the shark was hauled up. Larry had given his 
arm to Lady Eleanor, and they stood at the taff- 
rail, where they could witness the whole operation 
to the best advantage. 


SEA AM) SHORE, OR 


21(3 

“There comes the steiiiner,” said Larry. “That 
boat is hailing her.” 

“1 see she is,” I replied. 

Even the interest we all felt in the capture of 
the shark did not prevent me from watching the 
boat. The steamer stopped her wheels, and one 
of the two men was taken on board of her. 
Through the glass I saw McFordingham attempt 
to go up the accommodation ladder, but he was 
driven back into his boat. The steamer started 
her wheels again, backing, apparently to avoid 
some rock towards which she was drifting. I 
could mot help uttering a sharp cry when I saw 
the wheel strike the boat, for 1 expected to see 
the tall captain crushed beneath it. But the 
wheels stopped, and McFordingham pulled out 
of the way. I could just hear the sharp words 
that followed, and then the steamer started on 
her voyage. The boat, instead of pulling towards 
the harbor, headed for the yacht. The sea was 
smooth, and there was hardly a breath of air. I 
saw that what I should call a thunder-shower at 
home was coming up in the west, and, as it might 
be attended by a squall, I was rather anxious to 
have the shark disposed of; though, as the wind 







^ f. •. ' , , T ,..- 

Vil' ■ ■ ■■ 
•1.'^ < ' '•• I. ;v‘ ;.• . 


•i 


I ^ 


■I ,.r- - 

K-i 

.Y. ^ - 

.» •- 

i 


i 




■ \, 

ff 


T r"' 






j 


‘1/ • 


) ' 

. i* 

A- '\ ’ r- . 

. 1 




Si 


1/ • . - 

AiAs ,^k': - 




; ,#-v' 

■> 


> r ^ 

♦ / 


♦ . ’ 

'* » ,'l* 


* • J 


* *• «• t • • . ■ V* r- f 4 

5 ''• • ^ ' 

V.'. » » 

* . *• • 

ft ' 


kft’* • ’ . 

i ..r.'C 

■r • •# 








•* V 


> , ' 


;-.A' 


V' 


-- K ■ '. ; ' 

' •! ' - , V • 

. ^<^ 


V ' 




Vs 


* *n U 

i 

* _ « ' 




“TVr 





» •. *• ** 


; • ^ 


)A r- 

, »• •• ■ i* 
i ^ , / » 

:. '- ’ 


,v 




\ 


- . * 


m • 

•^y 'rV> '' - 

•#* • .• A y ^ 


• -s-i ■ 

'■ • ■ 

">♦'• v 

i ^ 


• ' t s* V . 

' ' i : \ "■ 



I w 




•• < 


/ 1 




“-" A" / / 

t‘ V l" ‘'- " ' - 

rS •' • 


ts 


<. 

?•-:•■■ V 


fi.’ i."* 


^ • i * ^ 


. 

I • 

■V 

-■ii ■ 


t 

A . > 


•y^ •' 


* c"*'. 


» , 


t: » ’ 




' 


“• ^4 TT ••f 

■ ^ - > •« 

r .'^ i 


V 4 ’ g 

A 

> • • 




( . 


f 


^ , 4 Jr 

V- ■ 


.;»• ^.-r- 




f 


» . 


V 






« - J 

ft 


* ^ j* ’ ' 7 

^ * <Lj ■ ' 


»«T I »- ^ '♦ • 

' -'\ * . • ■ ♦*/ ‘ 

. ■ 

■ - V-' ■ " i ; 1^3:* 

• ■'4 • *.. * 4 > * . ' . r » 4. , - m -*f '£4 'S 

• •; r ■ ’A # r • *1 “1 % 4 |AJ| 

/■ ^ ’■ •' *. *-i /jWffi 


■ ' ^ 1 - 


•v^- 


•A*' 




4 , 

s^‘ 




.ri/. 

‘ v’ •■ '•■ ' 

V I • . . ft 4 t 
» ' ' 


•k ^ 




I 


• • •' ^ ■ ■.;•<** • • * .' 1 - 
*» J .‘‘^ t •-. * . . ’ • 

■ ' ' * ' 

r •»>.< ■ :■ ■ ' . 


» o $ 

, « 

y.- 


* •'* 


» ♦ 




V' 


• , « 4 • 

ft N 

• «. - . 


« 


. f 


.4 .y • 

‘ . »• 


•jy 


iy.f. t • /-' 

- '§ .» 4 « ^ 4 


. V 


Ji . V-. ' ; 


/» 

''\f 


■!y:: 




^-4 -s.‘ V ‘ . ■ 

I- 

^ '*** 


■ '4 



. f ► 


• / . ' 


/• • 

^ yV ' 


• /•V 


t * 

fOAlViX* U'* #■ KJ*.' 


. >• 


'«• • 


ft ft.. 4 


. . t*N • .V 

■V : :. ' :\ki^ 

' ' •••‘ •■•A 

/i ;■ . '^' . 

'■ 


• ’ . '’I ■;• y > 

i m ■' ft 

V/ 

t r.^ . 4 «. f,' V** u 


4 

0.* ‘ 



* tft 

. .* ('tj 

• ■ '-* lii 

' i. .* . »<*• - 


J 


ft i v/ < 


• • • V -^•''^ 5:1 

s% V ;;i : 

., '' « t 


. I • 


a . ■ 



THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


217 


was dying out, we could hardly increase our dis- 
tance from the islands before it came. 

Clieesemaii dropped the baited hook in the 
water, and the shark had swum up to it as soon 
as it touched tlie surface. He toyed with it for 
a moment, and then, rolling over upon one side, 
he took it into his mouth. After waiting a mo- 
ment until the monster had the bait fairly between 
his teeth, the second mate gave a tremendous 
twdtch, and fairly hooked the game. The line 
h id been j)assed over the snatch-block on the 
boom, and the six men on the quarter-deck had 
fast hold of it. The instant the shark felt the 
hook, he commenced a series of the most violent 
struggles, lashing the water to a white foam. 
His struggles were fearful, and Lady Eleanor 
was glad to retreat from her position at the taff- 
rail. 

“Now, walk away,” said Cheesemau, when the 
shark was hooked. 

But it was not so easy, even for six men, to 
walk away with the line. The entire crew had 
come aft to witness the sport, and half a dozen 
more of the hands took hold of the rope. The 
shark was slowly raised from the water 5 but not 


218 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


for an instant Avere liis fierce struggles inter- 
mitted. He came up witli his mouth wide open, 
exhibiting his rows of frightful teeth, which it 
made us shudder to look upon. He was not yet 
in position to be lanced, and Spelter went forward 
for something. I saw him go below, and pres- 
ently he returned to the quarter-deck with a 
shovelful of live coals from the cook’s stove. 

“What’s that for?” demanded Larry, sharply. 

“I am going to give him a dose of hot drops,” 
replied the excited mate, laughing at the idea 
which he was in the act of carrying out. 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’m going to throw this shovelful of live coals 
down the shark’s throat,” answered the mate, 
pushing his way towards the taffrail. 

“Stop, Mr. Spelter,” shouted Larry, sternly. 

“Yes, sir. I’ll wait for you, so that you and 
the lady can see Hfe fun,” added the mate. 

“I don’t want to see it. Stopl 

“What, sir?” 

“Don’t you do it. Throw the coals over the 
side. I will have nothing of that kind done 
here.” 

“Why not, sir?” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


219 


“The shark shall be killed, but not tortured. 
I won’t have anything like cruelty perpetrated 
before my eyes.” 

Mr. Spelter threw the coals over the side, and 
seemed to be amazed and sheepish at the inter- 
ference of the owner. 

“Kill the shark as quick as you can, Mr. Spel- 
ter,” added Larry. “Don’t torture nor torment 
him.” 

“I never saw anybody before that w^as willing 
to take the part of a shark,” replied the mate, as 
he took the long lance in his hand. 

“I do not believe in cruelty to any animal; and 
I will not suffer it in my presence, when I have 
the means to prevent it,” said Larry. 

By this time the shark had been hauled up snug 
to the snatch-block. But he still strufirirled fear- 
fully. 

“Now punch him, Mr. Spelter,” said Cheese- 
man. 

“That I will,” replied the mate, as he thrust 
the lance into the shark, and repeated the opera- 
tion a dozen times. 

After a while — and it was a long while, for 
the monster held on to life with wonderful te- 


220 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


iiacity — the shark was killed. Lady Eleanor had 
an opportunity to examine him at her leisure, and 
we decided not to take hku on board. One of the 
men cut away the hook from his mouth with an 
axe, and the carcass of the shark dropped into the 
water, to be the food of others of his kind. 

During the excitement over the shark I had 
kept a sharp lookout upon the weather. I had 
sent a couple of hands to lower the jib and flying- 
jib, and to stand by the foresail-halyards. Then 
was not a breath of air, and I was satisfied that 
we should have a smart squall. 

“Blanche, ahoy!” shouted a voice from astern 
of the yacht. 

I turned, and saw McFordingham pulling with 
all his might towards us. The bow of his boat 
was badly stove. 

“Haul down the foresail,” I shouted, as I dis- 
covered the squall coming down upon us. 

At this moment McFordingham came alongside, 
and leaped upon the deck of the yacht. Of course 
I could not object, for his battered boat could not 
have stood it for five minutes in a sharp sea. 
The lightning flashed and the thunder roared as I 
Lad seldom seen before. Along the sea some- 


THE TRA]V1PS OF A TRAVELLER. 


221 


thing like a great cloud of fog seemed to sweep 
on its way towards us. In an instant it overtook 
us. It was the squall, stirring up the water and 
driving the spray in the air as ituidvanced. 

“Hard down your helm! ” I called to the quar- 
termaster, as the blast struck the yacht. 

She came up head to it, and we looked into the 
teeth of the squall. As every sail was furled, it 
did us no harm, and was over in a few moments. 
Then the rain poured down in torrents, and our 
guests fled to the cabin; but Lady Eleanor de- 
clared that the squall was magnificent. 


222 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


CHAPTER XVI. 

IN WHICH PHIL AND OTHERS ARE CONFOUNDED BY 
A MYSTERY. 

DID not go below when the rain began to 
L pour down in torrents, l)ut clothed myself in 
a rubber suit, and kept a sharp lookout for any 
peril that might be lurking near the yacht. 1 had 
too often walked the deck in ^torin nnd gale to 
heed the exposure. Drifting astern of us I saw 
the buttered boat of McFordins^ham, now half full 
of water ; but its late occupant had gone below. 
If he had not been on board, I should have hoisted 
sail, and laid our course again; but I could not 
think of carrying the fellow oft‘ from the penal ser- 
vitude to which he had been sentenced, even if I 
had been willing to endure his presence during 
the voyage. It was my intention to run up to the 
entrance of the harbor, and put him on shore. 

In half an hour the rain ceased to fall, but we 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


223 


heard the thunder still booming down to leeward 
of us. I called all hands, and set the jib and main- 
sail, under which, with a gentle breeze, we ran 
towards the islands again. McFordingham, with- 
out any invitation, had gone below as soon as he 
came on board. It was not necessary for me to 
ask him to explain his movements since we parted 
at Cherrystone Hill. He had not deemed it pru- 
dent to return to the town after the events on the 
cliff. Perhaps, if I had not taken the precaution 
to throw the pistols overboard, Larry, and pos- 
sibly myself, might have been shot; and, with no 
particular warning from the governor. Miles and 
his comp!ini()n might hive departed in the steamer 
before our absence was discovered by our friends. 
As my friend and myself went to the town first, 
it was not sa!‘e for them to do so; and they had 
taken a boat at some other point, intercepting the 
steamer as she came out. Miles had been re- 
\vived on l^oard, but a passage was refused to his 
companion, though, as I saw myself, he had per- 
sisted in attempting to go up the side of the 
vessel, apjiarently after the order to back her 
had been given. I concluded that he had pulled 
for the Blanche with the expectation of going to 
England in her. 


224 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“Where is that nidn?” I asked, when we had 
got under way. 

“Who — Longshanks?’’ added Spelter. 

“Yes. AVe must get rid of him.” 

“In the forecastle, 1 suppose, sir.” 

“Send for him.” 

In a few moments the convict appeared. As 
he came up the ladder 1 saw him look about him, 
and he did not seem to be pleased when he dis- 
covered that the yacht was headed towards the 
islands. 

“At your service, captain,” said he, touching 
the little cap on his head. • “You sent for me.” 
“I did.” 

“But allow me to suggest that your yacht is 
headed the wrong way,” added he. 

“Our course, just now, is laid for your benefit. 
I believe no invitation was extended to you to 
come on board of the yacht.” 

“You are quite right. Captain Farringford; and 
for this breach of courtesy 1 must tender my apol- 
ogy,” he replied, bowing with respectful defer- 
ence. 

“Why did you pull for the Blanche when you 
were nearer the shore?” 


THE THAMES OF A TRAVELLER. 


225 


<^‘BecMUso 1 sawtlijit squall coming, and couldn't 
pull against it. 1 should have been swamped in 
a moment, with the bows of the boat stove in. 
Your extensive knowledge of maritime matters 
will enable you at once to see the force of this 
argument.” 

“You had time enough to pull to the shore be- 
fore the squall came.” 

“I could not know how much time I had. Be- 
sides, I desire to visit England; and that steamer 
barbarously refused me a passage, which I trust 
your good nature will not permit you to do.” 

“You over-estimate my good nature. Captain 
McFordingham. Your excellent friend, the gov- 
ernor, informed us that you were a convict, serv- 
ing out a penal sentence in these islands, for 
robbing your master. Lord Bergamot, whose foot- 
man you were.” 

“1 acknowledge that I was the victim of a con- 
spiracy. I was not the footman of Lord Berga- 
mot — you see to what slanders the unfortunate 
are subjected — but his confidential steward. His 
lordship was a young man, and wild, very wild. 
Captain Farringford. He got into a broil in Lon- 
don, one day, with another nobleman, and the case 
15 


226 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


went to the courts. Unfortunately, I was called 
as a witness, being with iny lord at the time of the 
quarrel. His lordship was the aggressor, and all 
the blame properly lested upon him. Under the 
sanctity of an oath, what could i do but tell the 
truth? I appeal to you. Captain Farringford, to 
say whether 1 could avoid speaking the truth. 
As a gentleman, 1 always speak the truth. But 
especially should a gcntkn rai do so under the 
sanctity of an oath. Do you see any way, captain, 
that I could avoid speaking the truth ? I did speak 
the truth, the Avhole truth, and nothing but the 
truth, which, as a gentleman I always do. Lord 
Bergamot was convicted of an aggravated assault, 
and, besides a heavy fine, was sentenced to prison 
for thirty days, just to convince the common peo- 
ple that viscounts are no lictter than other citizens 
before the law in England. Mark the conse- 
quences, Captain Farringford. Dining the ab- 
sence in prison of my lord, I took care that his 
property should suffer no waste; and, having 
sent a portion of his plate and jewelry to a place 
of greater security, I was prosecuted for embezzh - 
ment, and sentenced to ten years’ transportation. 
I give you the simple fact, captain, and leave you 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLKR. 


227 


to judge whether I am a criminal or not. I in- 
curred the wrath of Viscount Sergamot, and here 
I am.’’ 

“Of course you have told that story to youi 
excellent friend, the governor,” I added. 

“I have, sir; but he is an official under the gov- 
ernment, and must do his duty. I honor him for 
it, sir. But his excellency is fully convinced of 
my innocence, and has honored me with his con- 
fidence and sympathy. Though it would not be 
becoming in him, as the representative of Her 
Majesty in these islands, to say so, yet the great- 
est favor you could do him would be to extend to 
me an invitation to visit England in your magnifi- 
cent yacht.” 

“I’m sorry I can’t oblige his excellency in this 
particular. You seem to have forgotten the events 
in the vicinity of Cherrystone Hill,” I suggested, 
amused at the brazen eflfrontery of the fellow. 

“Under the circumstances I am willing to accept 
the apology of your friend, and to acknowledge 
entire satisfaction for Avhat has passed,” he re- 
plied. 

“Are you, indeed? You are very obliging.” 

“I assure you, I bear no malice. When I give 
my hand, my heart goes with it.” 


228 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“Doubtless you are very affectionate.’’ 

“1 am naturally of a eonfiding nature; and 1 
am willing to own that this has led me into mis- 
takes and indiscretions. But I cherish no malice. 
I accept the apology of your friend, and I should 
give him and you my entire confidence, unreserved 
and without a thought of ill.” 

“You are very kind. I suppose it does not 
occur to you that it was at all irregular to waylay 
us at Cherrystone Hill, with the intention of shoot- 
ing us,” I suggested. 

“Everything was to be fair and upon honor. 
Perhaps my wrongs have made me sensitive. Your 
refusal to drink with me was an insult; your de- 
clining to deal with me aggravated my wrath, 
and your refusal to give me a passage, with the 
ridicule of your friend of my manly proportions, 
stung me to the soul. I know 1 am sensitive; 
my wrongs have made me so.” 

“But you were the agent of Mr. Miles Grimsby.” 

“I beg your pardon; I was not. We lodged 
at the same house. He told me his wrongs; that 
your friend had robbed him of his title and estates. 
With my confiding nature I could not Avithhold my 
sympathies from him. Fired with indignation, I 
sent you a challenge. We met.” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


229 


“We met by accident on our part; and 1 think 
your excellent friend, the governor, will put you 
in the calaboose when he sees you.” 

“Perhaps his sense of duty will compel him to 
do so; but it will be against his better judgment 
and his sympathies. I hope you will not subject 
him to this unpleasant necessity.” 

“I certainly shall.” 

“You will wrong him and me.” 

“I feel obliged to take the responsibility.” 

“One word more, captain. Perhaps my sym- 
pathies were too gushingly extended to Mr. Miles. 
1 am inclined to think, now, that they were. But 
Mr. Miles communicated to me in the strictest 
confidence, while we were waiting in the boat for 
the steamer, his plans f jr the future. He means 
harm.” 

“And you are willing to help Mr. Lawrence 
out?” 

“I will defeat the plans of Mr. Miles, though 
I cannot betray his confidence. A gentleman has 
a sacred regard for the confidence reposed in him. 
Your friend will lose his life in the most myste- 
rious manner, when Mr. Miles is a thousand miles 
away from him,” added the convict, dropping his 
voice down to a whisper. “I can save him.” 


230 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“Well, I hope you will do so, if you have au 
opportunity.” 

“All I ask is a passage to England, and — ” 

“I will send you ashore in a boat as soon as we 
are (;ff the mouth of the harbor.” 

I turned on my heel and walked aft to Larry, 
who was talking with Lady Eleanor and her 
friends. I told him what the convict had said. 
Of course it Avas all fiction, and we laughed at it. 
The sun had come out again, and all hands were 
on deck. I ordered a boat to be got ready to con- 
vey the convict to the shore. Half an hour later 
we came up into the Avind off the “Boiler,” and 
the boat Avas loAvercd into the water. 

“Noav, give my compliments to McFording- 
ham, and inform him that the boat is at his ser- 
vice,” I said to the mate. 

“Hadn’t you better appoint a committee to Avr.it 
upon him, Phil?” laughed Larry. 

“Perhaps that Avould be the more elegant Avay 
to do the business; but I have sent the mate.’’ 

“Suppose he don’t accept your polite invita- 
tion, Phil,” added Larry. 

“Then I will appciint the committee, consist- 
ing of the three stoutest fellows in the vessel, to 
coax him,” I replied. 


THE THAMES OF A TRAVELLER. 


231 


“Doji’t uso violence, Philip.’’ 

“Shall I permit him to remain on board the 
Blanche in case he declines to accept my invi- 
tation to go on shore?” I asked. 

“You always pose me with hard questions, 
though I have repeatedly declared that I am no 
philosopher. But use your own judgment, Philip.” 

“I don’t put my judgment against positive or- 
ders. But the fellow does not seem to show 
himself; and 1 suppose he refuses to go on shore.” 

Mr. Spelter had gone below, and had been 
a))sent fifteen minutes. I concluded that he was 
arguing the question with McFordingham. I vas 
willing that he should exhaust his logic, and I 
Avaited patiently for the issue. In another quarter 
of an hour the mate came on the quarter-deck. 

“Well, Mr. Spelter, Avhere is he?” I asked. 

“Mr. Longshanks has gone up, sure,” replied 
the mate, with a puzzled expression on his bronzed 
face. 

“Gone lip? What does he say?” 

“I haven’t heard him say anything,” replied 
Spelter, scratching his head. 

“Didn’t you give my compliments to him?” 

“I did not. The fact on’t is, I can’t find him.” 


232 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


‘‘Can’t find him?” 

“No, sir; can’t find him. I’ve looked in every 
hole and corner, and so have the cook and stew- 
ards. I should say he had crawled into some 
pipe-stem, if we had one on board long enough.” 

“That’s very singular,” I added. 

“Singular ! ‘pon my word it’s marvellous.” 

“The fellow didn’t jump overboard — did he?” 

“Not that Ihn aware of.” 

“You broke his heart by your coldness, Phil, 
and he has gone over into the drink in despair,” 
laughed Larry. “Have you overhauled the fore- 
to’-bobbin, Mr, Spelter?” 

“No, sir, not yet.” 

“Have you opened the fore royal hatch-way?” 

“No, sir. We never open that except in pres- 
ence of the owner,” answered the mate. 

“Eight! Always l>e prudent, and don’t incur 
any needless responsibility.” 

“What’s the fore royal hatch-way, Mr. Grims- 
by?” asked Lady Eleanor. 

“Eeally, I don’t know. You must ask Captain 
Farringford.” 

‘ It’s where the foreto’ -bobbin comes into jux- 
taposition with the main-to ’-gallant bobstay,” I 
replied. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER 


233 


“That’s it. Phil knows all about marine mat- 
ters,” added Larry. “But, Mr. Spelter, where 
is our elegant friend, Captain McFordingham ?” 

“I don't know, sir, unless he has gone over- 
board, and a shark has gobbled him up.” 

“He went below, and of course he is there 
now,” I added. “Send half a dozen hands down 
to look for him.” 

I went into the cabin myself, and, with the 
steward, made a thorough search of that part of 
the vessel. I looked into the lockers, under the 
berth, and even invaded Lady Eleanor’s state- 
room. I then went through the other apartments, 
and joined the hands in the forecastle. I exam- 
ined every place where it was possible for a man 
to be concealed, but could not find him. 

“Who saw him last?” I inquired. 

No one answered, but the hands looked from 
one to another. 

“I saw him go down the ladder to the forecastle, 
after talking with you, sir,” replied Butters, at 
last, when I had repeated the question. 

“Who was in the forecastle then?” 

“No one, I think, sir. All hands were on deck.’^ 

“Did he go on deck again after that?” 


234 


SEA AND SHOrX^ OR 


‘‘I didn’t see him, sir.’’ 

“Did you see him, cook?” 

“No, sir. My door was closed, and he didn’t 
come into the kitchen,” replied the cook. 

As the fugitive could get from the forecastle 
to the cabin only by passing through the kitchen, 
I concluded that he must be in the forward part 
of the vessel. 

“He may have crawled into the hold,” sug- 
gested Mr. Spelter. 

“Open the hold,” I replied. “Steward, a 
lantern ! ’ ’ 

The Blanche was a keel vessel, and not a cen- 
tre-board, and there was some space below the 
floors, where the ballast and the coarser provisions 
were placed. Two of the men had been appointed 
to take charge of the hold, whose duty required 
them to see that it was kept clean, and that the 
boxes, barrels, and bags were secure. 

“The tall man was down there before,” said 
the head steward. 

“The man we are looking for?” I asked. 

“Yes, sir. i bought some fruits and vegetables 
of him; and he offered to go into the hold and 
stow them so that they would keep well.” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


235 


The two holdmen went down into the dark re- 
cess below. I followed them myself, to see that 
they did their duty faithfully. I saw them turn 
boxes and bags, and I looked in every part of the 
hold myself. Then we went through the search a 
second time. I looked for myself into every part 
where a man could be concealed, without success. 
[ did not overhaul the ballast, which was of pigs 
of iron, packed each side of the keelson, secured 
against shifting by timbers bolted to the ribs, for 
no man could live with such a weight upon him. 
Reluctantly I gave up the search. 

We were all confounded by the mystery. We 
lay off and on till the next morning without being 
able to solve the strange problem, and then laid 
our course for the voyage. Again and again we 
searched every part of the yacht. I even went 
around her in a boat, to see if the fellow was not 
concealed under the counter, or clinging to the 
bobsta3L I finally concluded that he had dropped 
overboard, and swum ashore, to avoid being 
handed over to the governor. 


236 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


CHAPTER XVII. 

IN WHICH PHIL AND LARRY ARE ASTONISHED, AND 
THEN ARE ASTONISHED AGAIN. 

O N the morning after the strange disappear- 
ance of McFordingham, the wind was fresh 
from the westward, which gave us onr best point 
in sailing. The Blanche seemed to fly on her 
course, and vve soon took our last look at the Ber- 
mudas. Our passengers were not sea-sick, and 
Lady Eleanor had no abatement of the pleasure 
of the voyage. Larry was very funny, and made 
his guests laugh a great deal. Our German in- 
structor, Mr. Schmidt, — who has thus far been 
ignored because there was nothing for him to do 
or say, — was called into action, and we had Gei- 
man conversations in the forenoon and afternoon, 
in which Lady Eleanor joined. We were very 
serious in this business, and our teacher was 
faithful. In the evening ^ve had reading and 
irames in the caliin. 


TPIE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


237 


For a day or two the mystery of the convict 
was occasionally alluded to, and Larry expressed 
his belief that the captain had evaporated into 
mist, and had been wafted olF to sea. He thought 
that if we ran into a fog, the captain would ngain 
assume shape and substance, and drop down upon 
our deck. 

“You mean by that, you think he will appear 
again,’’ I replied. 

“I’m afraid he will, Phil. I advise you to keep 
clear of all fog-banks,” laughed Larry. “In nau- 
tical parlance, give them a wide berth.” 

“It is utterly impossible that he should ])e con- 
cealed on board,” I protested. 

“Of course. I don’t expect to see him until a 
fog-bank settles down on the Blanche; then you 
will see him just as the fisherman did the genius, 
forming from the smoke that issued from the urn. 
That’s the way he’ll come back. Therefore, keep 
clear of fog-banks.” 

“I don’t know that it is possible to keep clear 
of them, Larry.” 

“Then we may be doomed to endure the cap- 
tain’s presence during a portion of the voyage,” 
laughed Larry. 


238 


SEA AND STIORE, OR 


But the subject wus dropped in a couple of 
days, and we ceased to think of the captain. We 
studied German, played checkers, chess, and back- 
gammon, and read Tennyson, Scott, and Long- 
fellow. The days passed away very pleasantly, 
and time hung no burden on our shoulders. For 
live days we had the wind from the westward, 
and mtide steamer time of it; but then came a 
calm and a fog. For a day and a night we kept 
the fog-horn sounding at intervals. It wtis cold 
and disagreeable on deck, and for this reason I 
was separated most of the time from oiu’ passen- 
gers. Yet we had but twenty-four hours of this 
weather, and on the sixth day out, the fog rolled 
away in the middle of the afternoon, and the sun 
shone l)rightly upon the ocean, drying up our 
decks, and bringing warmth to the heart as well 
as to the air. The wdiid came from the north-west, 
and again the Blanche leaj)ed on her course, with 
every rag of canvas drawing. Our ixirty were 
seated on the quarter-deck enjoying the scene. 

“Well, Larry, we got out of that fog safely,” 
said I, as I took a camp-stool o[)posite my friend, 
and facing the helmsman. “The captain hasn’t 
turned up yet.” 


^// 



What came of the Fog. Page 238. 




if"' 

% lA . '/ /T . ; - 


’ .1 / 


f ..• >•- 


\ 




f / » * 








/ . 




• '-VC: \V - ' 

^ . /n 




r . 


It*- 


V • 


$r^'‘V -• 


- .* 1 . • 

^ • * 


«• 

^ ‘ 


■ * » 1 », 

.> v -- ■ -^Vj. 


« \ 



^ •, 

« 


'L 


/■ 

r 


► »- » 

..>♦ 


,.1 


■* i JL • 

. . .. 'F , « 




V ^ 



. r •; ‘ 


u . . 






-4. 


V . T- 




< * 


A,;-. 


V* 


i. 



: : 




I • 


• •' 





-; J 


r 


•• » 


\. V 
X 




T V^l « 44 V 


A* V* 

t' . 


f«- 

a ' •> 


S'" r ' 

**. A » • t 


t 


•F* • 1 ’ 

1 1 « > • » # . - 

. ■ *1 • Fs, I 

'Vi 

vj^v 


/.•4: 


' vA 


1 1 • 

*: • -: 

*/ i» 

• w ^ r TLT 


■t ■ ^ 

:-i 


"'SB? 


. . ’f •■'■...' ' •;•> • -SSJ • 

‘.* >•_ -^ 'A. *: <‘ac - ' ^ c-.vl] 




V 




C ■• 










, .V ,' 




V 









I • / 


7 ..r. 

' 5 k;- 


>> 


.V 


r 

», 


#-f 




« «» 


■ •“ • yi.V* « . 

« »/w- 

1 ' » I 

i ■ ; « 

‘ 1 - 

, , > / A 

• ii ^/• f " 


- *. 

4 









.... ' .. 

r *» r V • ^ «*. 


^ . * 


♦' V, - .K--« u 

• •■ v'-*/. i 

*. ' . 

.% - ' . ■ 


■■ , .. 


, O - 


\ . 


■/. . 

* 




1.; 




.A» 

4 




. I 


-v/ - 

» ■ . - • 


• ■ ' 
.» ••.*,*» 


'•*5 ' ■ • .• 

sr ■ . ■.- •.‘JL-y ' 






ii- 


^ . 


« • • 


K> 


S** 


i • 


-V-xi* 


A.. *< 

‘i 4 *. •• * . 




. >-• 


‘'Iv' 

4 .e^; 


y » 


4^ 




<L-- i*’ ”..v,'-'‘.: . 

fc; -';■ 


, » 


k 

• » 


?inJ ‘ - .M 

'■■■■■. . 



s: * .'-I i 




. -I - #. ‘ « * - . a %. ‘ i« 


-St T . A -4^' I ' m' 





THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


233 


“Don’t crow till you are out of the woods, 
Phil,” laughed Larry, as he pointed to the dense 
fog-bank in the south-east. “The tall man is cer- 
tainly in that pile; you may depend upon it.” 

“Perhaps he is; but I think we are clear of that 
bank. If the captain is in it, he will find it rather 
difficult to work his way up to windward so as to 
reach our present position.” 

“Not at all. Captain Farringford,” said a voice 
behind me. 

I sprang to my feet. 

“I told you so, Phil. I knew the fog would 
bring him,” exclaimed Larry, laughing heartily. 

I turned and saw Captain Gregory McFording- 
ham standing on the weather side of the main- 
mast. He had just raised his little cap, and was 
in the act of making his politest bow to the party. 

“I am exceedingly happy to find that my com- 
ing was not unexpected, and I hope it will not be 
unwelcome,” said the captain, bowing and smirk- 
ing again. 

“May I be so bold as to ask where you came 
from?” I added. 

Raising his long arm, he shrugged his shoul- 
ders, and pointed to the fog-bank, with the most 
melodramatic efltect. 


240 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“I knew it, Phil,” exclaimed Larry. “He ha^w 
been in that fog-bank all the time.” 

“You are quite right, Mr. Grimsby; and a 
very disagreeable situation it was, too, I assure 
you. I humbly hope and trust that the iiihospi- 
tality of your friends will never compel you to 
take refuge in a fog-bank,” added McFordingham, 
shaking his head ruefully. 

“How long have you been on board, my excel- 
lent friend?” asked Lnriy. 

“I have been onboard some time, sir; in fact, 
an hour or two. You see, I had some difficulty in 
shaking off the fog and getting clear of it. But 
I got hold of your mainmast and Imld on with all 
my miglit. After a fearful struggle, which has 
left me quite exhausted, I disengaged myself, 
and came down the mainmast.” 

“You seem to be rather the worse for the 
wear,” I added. 

“Well, I am. This life in a fog-bank is very 
uncomfortable. I hope you will never be obliged 
to endure a iveek of it, as I have, Captain Far- 
rino'ford. I have lived on air and cold water all 
the time; and I hope you will order your steward 
to give me something more substantial.” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAYELLPHl. 


241 


“You slpill be fed,” I replied. 

“And ii little drop of brandy would not come 
amiss.” 

“We don’t use the article; but you shall have 
tea or colfee.” 

All hands had gathered in the wai^t, and were 
regarding the tall captain with the utmost aston- 
ishment. I called the second steward, and told 
him to feed our unexpected guest. He took him 
to the kitchen. 

“Where did that fellow come from?” I asked 
of the wondering crew. 

“About five minutes before he showed himself 
to you, he rushed up the fore-hatch, and then 
placed himself by the mainmast, where you 
couldn’t see him,” replied Butters. 

“But where was he concealed?” 

“I don’t know, sir.” 

No one knew. I called the hold-men, and went 
below. I examined the hold again, to find the 
place where the captain had stowed himself. 
Everything appeared just as it had l^een at my 
former visits. The boxes.; bags, and barrels were 
all in order, and did not appear to have been dis- 
turbed. I looked at the ballast, Avhich was piled 
16 


242 


SEA AND SliOl^E, OH 


up ill the run, over the toj) of the keelson. Every 
pig of iron seemed to ]>e iii the siime position as 
when 1 had last examined it, I returned to the 
deck, more amazed and bewildered than ever. I 
made further inquiries among the men; but they 
were all on deck when McFordingham appeared. 
One of the hold-men had brought up a sack of 
potatoes that afternoon. 

‘‘It’s very singular, Larry,” said I, when I had 
related to the party on the quarter-deck the result 
of my examination. 

“Xot at all, Phil,” laughed Larry. “He came 
out of that fog-bank, as he told you. The poor 
fellow has been enveloped in that mass of cold 
moisture for a week. Didn’t he tell you what a 
struggle he had with the mainmast to shake off 
the fog?” 

“I’m sorry he didn’t stay in the fog,” I replied. 
“If I had known he was wrestling with the 
main-topmast, I would have cut it away rather than 
have him come on board again.” 

“You could not have been so cruel, Phil.” 

“I don’t understand it,” I continued, vexed by 
the mystery. 

“It is perfectly plain, my dear Philip. You are 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


243 


a philosopher, 1 know; but you should not fill yuur 
head with vain inquiries. Accept the only phms- 
ible explanation of the mystery, and fill away 
again on the other tack, with the foreto ’-bobbin 
taut on the weather bkysail bobstay.” 

“The fellow must have been on board all the 
time.” 

“Quite impossible. The fog condensed him on 
the main-topmast, and he slid down like a drop of 
water. Now w^e have him, let us make the ))est 
of him,” said Larry. 

By this time the captain had finished his meal, 
and a2)peared upon deck again. 

“CaiDtain McFordingham, we have gone too far 
on our cruise to return with you; and, as you 
are going to England with us, you may inform me 
where you were concealed,” I began, as be coolly 
seated himself near our i^arty. 

“As Mr. Grimsby has already explained the 
matter very fully, it would not be projDer in me 
to invalidate any of his statements,” rejjlied the 
captain, bowing and touching his cap to our 
owner. 

I saw that the rascal did not mean to tell me 
what I desired to know, and Larry pretended to 


244 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


be perfectly sjitisfied with t!ic solution already 
given. My dignity would not permit me to press 
the question, and 1 let it drop. The captain never 
for an instant abandoned his inagniticent speech 
and manner, and the party were very much 
amused by him. 

The next day the lookout forward announced a 
sail ahead. Such an event always makes a sensa- 
tion on board; and for an hour we speculated over 
the nation and character of the approaching vessel, 
before she was near enough to be made out. She 
proved to be a large steam frigate, under sail 
only, belonging to the British navy. 

“She is bound to the West Indies,’’ said the 
mate. 

“Then she will go to the Bermudas, without 
doubt, for there is a naval station tliere,” I added. 
“Set the colors.” 

The American flag went up to our peak, and we 
saw the red cross of England on the man-of-war. 

“If she is going to the Bermudas, we can give 
Captain McFordingham an opportunity to return 
in her,” I suggested to Larry. 

“As you think best, Phil,” replied he. 

The frigate was close-hauled, and not making 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


245 


more tliaii two knots an hour, for the wind was 
light. I gave the order to come about and stand 
over towards her. 

“Where is McFordinghain? ’ I asked. 

“He was asleep in the forecastle just now,” re- 
plied Butters. 

I went into the forecastle to announce my inten- 
tion myself. I found the captain in the temporary 
bunk which had been fitted up for him. I waked 
him with a pull at lu^ collar. 

“I beg your pardon, Captain Farringford,” said 
he springing to his feet. “What can I do for 
you, sir?” 

“There is an English man-of-war in sight, bound 
to the south-west. I have no doubt she is going 
to the naval station at the Bermudas. As this 
will afford you an excellent opportunity to return 
to your friends, I suggest that you take passage 
in her.” 

“Thank you. Captain Farringford. You are 
very kind to take so much trouble on my ac- 
count,” he answered, apparently unmoved by my 
announcement. 

“Not at all; don’t mention it, my dear captain. 
We are running down to the ship, and shall speak 
her in a short time.” 


246 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


• “As you are aware, I desire to visit England; 
and I couldn’t think of giving you so much 
trouble on my account.” 

“I beg to assure you it will be no trouble at 
all. We shall be particular!}^ happy to serve you 
in this manner.” 

“Very well. Captain Farr ingford; you are so 
very kind that I cannot deny myself the privilege 
of accepting what you so graciously offer. I will 
be at your service in a few moments, if you will 
permit me to take a lunch before I bid a last fare- 
well to so many kind friends.” 

“Certainly, captain;” and I passed through the 
kitchen to give the cook an order to supi^ly liim 
with food. 

The cook was not at his galley; and I went 
on deck by way of the cabin. All hands were 
looking at the man-of-war, and the cook was among 
them. He had come on deck to ask one of the 
hold-men to bring him up a supply of vegetables 
for dinner. He and the hold-man went below. 
In ten minutes the cook came to me on deck 
again. 

“Where is the captain, sir? His lunch is 
ready,” said he. 


THE TllAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


247 


‘‘I left him in the forecastle.” 

“He is not there now, sir.” 

“Not there?” 

“No, sir.” 

I looked about the deck, and he was not there. 
I descended by the fore scuttle to the forecastle. 
Certainly the rascal was not there. I began to 
snuff another mysterious disappearance, and I was 
vexed, sorely vexed^ The news that McFording- 
ham was not to be found had been passed along 
till it reached Larry, who came down the fore 
scuttle, shaking his sides with laughter at what he 
was pleased to call a repetition of the old joke. 

“We have no fog to-day, Phil,” said he. “He 
couldn’t have gone olf in a fog this time.” 

“I think not,” I replied, biting my lips with 
vexation. 

“But, Phil, don’t hail that English man-of-war 
till you find the man,” added Larry; “they will 
think you are making fools of them, and won’t 
appreciate the joke.” 

“I shall not hail her till we find the captain,” 
I replied. 

At this moment the hold-man opened the scuttle 
leading into the hold, which was in the passage by 


248 


SEA AND SirORE, OR 


the door of the ice-house. He came up with a 
lantern in one hand and a basket of vegetables in 
the other. 

“Frinks, is the captain down there?” 

“I didn’t see him, sir,” replied the man. 

“How long have you been in the hold?” I 
asked. 

“Five or ten minutes, sir; just long enough to 
get out these beets and turnips.” 

The cook took the vegetables, and I went into 
the hold once more, this time attended by Larry. 
Frinks carried the lantern, and, stooping low, — 
for the hold was not deep enough to permit us to 
stand up straight, — we carefully examined every 
nook and corner, with no better success than 
before. The ballast had not been moved, but at 
one end of the pile of pigs of iron was a quantity 
of cabbages, and some heads of luttuce set in wet 
sand. I pulled over the heads, but there was no 
head of a man to be seen. 

“He isn’t here, Phil,” said Larry, whose curi- 
osity seemed to be excited. 

“Where is he, then?” 

“I haven’t the least idea.” 

We went on deck again. I ordered the English 


THE TKAMPS OF A TRAVELLEH. 


249 


fiug to be hoisted at the fore, and the men to give 
three cheers in lioiior of the frigate. The ladies 
waved their haiirl kerchiefs, to which a group of 
officers in the rigging replied. We sheered oil 
and laid our course again, the Englishmen, prob- 
ably, supposing that we had varied it in order to 
gratify our curiosity. 

I was never more perplexed in my life than I 
was at the sudden disappearance a second time of 
Captain McFordingham. I was morally sure he 
was on board, and almost as sure that he was not 
in the hold. Larry laughed about it, and insisted 
that the captain was some mighty necromancer, 
who had the power to make himself invisible 
when occasion required. 


250 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


CHAPTER XVIII. 


IN WHICH PHIL AND OTHERS SOLVE THE MYSTERY. 

HE frigate went on her way, and we soon 



I lost sight of her. She was a beautiful object 
to look upon in the immense cloud of canvas 
which she carried, and for an hour, while we were 
near her, she Avas a decided sensation. I was 
sorry I had not been permitted to transfer our un- 
AVelcome passenger to her, for I should have felt 
better if I had known that the tall captain was on 
his Avay to his home in the Bermudas. I had 
directed all hands to keep a sharp lookout below 
for the missing man. The day wore away, and 
nothing was seen of him. 

At sunset our party Avere all seated on the 
quarter-deck, and Lady Eleanor had just favored 
us with a song, Avhich Ave rapturously applauded, 
though, as it Avas in the higher flights of music, 
I Avas unable to appreciate it. But singing Avas 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


251 


a novelty on board, unless I except the rude 
songs of the sailors. The sound of her ladyship’s 
voice attracted the attention of the hands forward, 
and in a moment the whole crew had gathered 
near the mainmast to listen to the music. Even 
the cook and stewards came on deck, and no lady 
ever had a more attentive audience. As I said, 
our party on the quarter-deck applauded, and our 
demonstration was followed by another on the part 
of the crew, more emphatic than ours. While I 
was trying to make up my mind whether it was 
quite proper for the seamen to applaud a per- 
formance to which they had not been invited, I 
discovered Captain McFordingham in the rear of 
the group, vigorously clapping his hands, and look- 
ing as delighted as though the entertainment had 
been given for his especial gratification. 

“Captain!” shouted he. Encore.''^ 

The hands turned and regarded him with a de- 
gree of astonishment which appeared fully to 
equal my own. 

“Longshanks ! ’ ’ exclaimed Mr. Spelter, walking 
up to the fellow. 

“Sir, allow me to suggest, in the mildest man- 
ner possible, that the epithet you apply to me is 


252 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


exceedingly opprobrious,” said McFordingliam, 
with his loftiest air. “Such expressions wound 
the feelings of a gentleman. Allow me to remind 
you that my name is Captain Gregory McFording- 
ham, formerly in the service of the Honorable 
East India Company.” 

“Exactly so; and I dare say the Honorable 
East India Company were very glad to get rid of 
you,” replied the blunt mate. “Where did you 
come from^ Gregory?” 

“Excuse me, Mr. Spelter, if I decline to hold 
any further communication with you,” answered 
the captain, with a magnificent sneer. 

“Good!” laughed Larry, who had walked for- 
ward to the mainmast with me. 

“I cannot hold any intercourse with one who 
has not the instincts of a gentleman.” 

“ThaCs rather rich for a convict,” said Spelter, 
who did not enjoy the airs of the fellow as our 
owner did. “I don’t think I could cut it quite so 
fat as that if I had been convicted of robbing my 
employer.” 

“As you are beneath my contempt, I can takr* 
no notice of your vulgar insinuations,” added Mc- 
Fordingham, turning his back to the mate. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


253 


“If I had my way, Pd take you down a peg, 
Lonofshanks , ” m uttered the mate. 

“Where did you come from this time, captain?” 
I asked. 

“I owe you an apology. Captain Farriugford, for 
not coming on deck this forenoon, as I told you I 
would,” replied the fellow, touching his little cap, 
and bowing low to me. “Permit me to explain 
my conduct.” 

“It is hardly necessary.” 

“But, sir, I owe it to my honor as a gentleman 
— a gentleman who has been unfortunate, but 
whose honor was never sullied by the breath of 
reproach.” 

“The breath of reproach! That isn't bad, 
Phil,” laughed Larry. 

“I repeat it, sir; who has been unfortunate, 
but whose honor is unsullied- You were so kind, 
Captain Farringford, as to offer me a passage, in 
that noble man-of-war, to the Bermudas. I am 
obliged to you for the invitation, and for the very 
courteous manner in which it was extended. I 
intended to accept it; but, upon more mature de- 
liberation, I decided not to do so. It would have 
been courteous on my part to inform you of my 


254 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


change of purpose ; but I trust that, under the 
circumstances, you will accept my humble apol- 
ogy-” 

‘‘Where were you when we looked for you?” 
I asked. 

“I was in a safe place,” he answered, smiling. 

‘‘A direct answer, if you please,” 

“I must beg your indulgence. Captain Far* 
ringford.” 

lie bowed low again, and I saw that he did not 
mean to reveal his hiding-place. I was vexed, but 
my dignity would not permit me to press the ques- 
tion. He went below soon after, and I heard of 
him in t! e cook-room, cajoling the cook to set be- 
fore him the best the yacht afforded. 

“Sail ho! ” called the lookout at a later hour in 
the evening. 

Ahead of us I saw the red and white lights of a 
vessel, indicating that she was on the starboard 
tack. As we could not see her green light, there 
was no danger of a collision, and we held our 
course, showing her our red light on the port 
bide, and the white light at the foremast-head, for 
the Blanche was provided with these signals, 
though at that time butfcAV sailing vessels carried 
them. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


255 


“I shouldn’t wonder if that was another man-of- 
war bound to the West Indies,” said Mr. Spelter, 
though I could not see what reason he had for 
su^o^estiii^: the idea. 

“Possibly,” I replied, inditferently. 

“I feel rather confident she is a man-of-war,” 
added the mate, “If she is, she must be bound 
for the Bermudas ; and I hope you will give Long- 
shanks another invitation to go home.” 

“I certainly shall.” 

Spelter walked forward and aft, and in a few 
moments it was reported through the yacht that 
the sail approaching was a man-of-war, bound to 
the soutliAvest. The mate was so confident in his 
opinion in regard to the vessel, that I went to the 
forecastle and informed the captain that he must 
be ready to take passage in her. He was po- 
lite, as usual. Most of t.ie watch below went on 
deck to see the vessel, and no one was left in the 
forecastle, so far as I could see. Of course, I ex- 
pected another mysterious disappearance, and I 
did not mean to be cheated this time. I went to 
the fore scuttle and ascended the steps, but I 
paused and seated myself on the combing of the 
hatch, where I could see McFordingham. In 


256 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


another moment he rose from the bunk where he 
was seated, and moved aft. 1 hastened down 
again; but the fellow had already vanished. I 
looked about, but could see nothing of him. lie 
must have entered the midship passage, from 
which the doors of the cook-room, ice-house, and 
mate’s room opened. I walked in this direction, 
and was immediately confronted by Cheeseman, 
the second mate. 

“He has gone into the hold, sir,” said he. 

“Did you see him?” I inquired. 

“Yes, sir. I am here to Avatch him,” answered 
the second mate, as he took down the lantern 
which was suspended from a deck-beam in the 
forecastle. 

We had searched the hold so many times that I 
could hardly believe the captain’s hiding-place 
was there. At this moment Frinks, the hold-man, 
came down with a lantern and a basket in his 
hand. 

“T\niere are you going?” I asked. 

“Into the hold after some potatoes for break- 
fast,” replied the man, as he opened the scuttle in 
the midship passage. 

I made a gesture to Cheeseman to stand back, 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


257 


and Frinks was permitted to jump into the hold 
and to close the scuttle after liim, as he always 
did, so that a person coming out of the cook-room 
or going to it might not fall through the opening. 

“Now open it, Cheeseman,” I said to the second 
mate. 

lie did so, and I jumped down into the hold. 
Cheeseman followed me with the lantern. Bending 
low, as I Avas obliged to do, I Avent aft, Avhere I 
found Frinks at Avork on the heap of cabbages, 
Avhich he seemed to be placing on the end of the 
pile of ballast. McFordingham could not be seen. 

“Frinks, go on deck and tell Mr. Spelter I Avish 
to see him in the hold,” said I to the hold-man. 

“iVy, ay, sir,” replied Frinks; but he did not go. 

“Do you hear me, Frinks?” 

“Ay, ay, sir; but—” 

“Obey my order at once,” I added, sternly. 

The man Avent; but I Avas satisfied that he 
kneAV more than he chose to tell, and had con- 
nived at the concealment of the convict. 

“ThroAV those cabbages ofi* the ballast, Cheese- 
man,” I continued, and assisted him in the work. 

In afcAV moments Mr. Spelter appeared, accom- 
panied by Frinks. 

17 


258 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“I don’t think that’s a man-of-war, now,” said 
the mate, chuckling, as he joined us. ‘‘But who 
has been overhauling this ballast?” 

“I was not aware that it had been overhauled.” 

“Yes, it has. 1 had this ballast stowed under 
my own eye; but 1 don’t know that 1 have been 
in the hold before since we sailed from New York. ” 

Spelter assisted in throwing off the cabbages; 
but when they had all been removed, the convict 
was not to be seen. 

“He wasn’t under them,” said Cheeseman. 

“Who, sir? the tall gentleman?” inquired 
Frinks. “He’s not down here, sir.” 

“Who moved the ballast, Frinks?” demanded 
the mate, savagely. 

“I moved it a little, sir, just to make a place for 
the sand-box, so that it shouldn’t shift in a sea, sir 
— that’s all,” replied the hold-man. 

“Lift up the box and slide it aft,” I added, 
confident that we had found the burrow of the 
fugitive. 

“There’s nothing under it but the ballast, sir,” 
said Frinks. 

“Lift it up.” 

It was a shallow box, partly filled with sand, 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


259 


which the lettuce was set up. The two mates 
lifted it, and moved it aft. 

“That’s what’s the matter! ” exclaimed the mate, 
triumphantly. “This is the fox’s hole.” 

When the box was removed, it revealed a 
square opening in the pile of ballast, and in the 
aperture we discovered the head and shoulders of 
Captain Gregory McFordingham, who immediately 
drew his long body out of the hole under the bal- 
last, and sat up before us. 

“Did I understand one of you gentlemen to say 
that the vessel approaching is not a man-of-war, 
bound to the southwest?” said he, with admirable 
self-possession. 

“Possibly she is, possibly not,” I replied. 

“I am not partial to British men-of-war on long 
voyages. I have had some experience in them,” 
added the captain. “I find they are not comfort- 
able or pleasant for those who have the instincts 
of gentlemen, especially if they have been unfor- 
tunate. I have been unfortunate, and my proper 
position in society is not generally recognized.” 

“Well, now, I thought it was,” added Wr. Spel- 
ter. “Were you not sentenced by the court to ten 
years’ penal servitude in the Bermudas?” 


260 


SEA AND SHORE j OPw 


“Permit me to say, Mr. Mate, that I decline 
any further intercourse with you.’’ 

“Well, I don’t decline any further intercourse 
with you. If you don’t come out of that hole in 
the twinkling of an eye, I’ll snake you out, like a 
bug fi\)m a rug. Come, stir yourself, Long- 
shanks,” said the mate. 

“Captain Farringford, I appeal to you against 
this follow’s assumption,” added the captain. 

“Obey his orders; he is the mate.” 

“But I am not one of the crew.” 

‘ ‘I don’ t regard you as a passenger. Come out, 
and 3^ou will save trouble.” 

“Tumble up here. Longshanks,” added Mr. 
Spelter, as he made a demonstration towards the 
captain. 

McFordingham concluded not to wait for any 
further action on the part of the mate, but crawled 
out of his hole. Then we had an opportunity to 
see how his den had been constructed. The pigs 
of iron, which were from two to three feet in 
length, had been removed from the middle of the 
pile, till there was an aperture seven feet long, 
and deep enough to contain the gaunt carcass of 
the fugitive. The sides on the interior had been 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLiai. 


261 


carefully built up. Across tlio top of the recess 
thus formed the pigs of ballast had been laid, 
except at one end for about two feet, which had 
been covered by the sand-box. The bottom of 
this den had been covered with straw, which 
had been used for packing various articles in 
barrels and cases. 

^‘That makes a soft thing of it,” said the mate. 

“But it’s lucky for you. Longshanks, that we 
haven’t had any rough weather, or some of that 
ballast would have been rolled on your stomach. 
In a gale of wind we might have had those pigs 
tumbling about the hold.” 

“The place was very comfortable for a few 
days,” added the captain; “but I don’t like it for 
steady lodgings.” 

“Of course Longshanks didn’t do this job 
alone,” added the mate to me. 

“I beg to inform you that 1 did,” interposed the 
fugitive with dignity. 

“Frinks helped him, and knew he was here,” I 
replied. 

“No doubt of that,” added Cheeseman. 

“No sir; I didn’t know he was here,” answered 
the hold-man. 


262 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“A lie won’t help you,” I continued. “We 
will go on deck.” 

The mate called several hands, and stowed the 
ballast in a safe manner. In the forecastle I 
called the cook. 

“Did you send down after potatoes?” I in- 
quired. 

‘‘No, sir,” replied the cook, petulantly, “That 
man has brought up more potatoes than I can use 
in a week. 1 made him carry back a lot of them 
this forenoon.” 

“Frinks, how much did the tall man pay you 
for what you have done for him?” 

“He gave me five sovereigns, and promised me 
five more if he got safely to England,” growled 
the hold-man. “But he told me that you and Mr. 
Grimsby wanted him to go in the yacht, but you 
were afraid of offending the governor, and would 
be much obliged to me if I helped him off.” 

“You were a simpleton to believe him. Give 
him back his money,” I replied. 

Frinks gave him the five sovereigns, which Mc- 
Fordingham did not object to receive. They had 
made the arrangement when the purveyor brought 
the vegetables on board, and McFordingham was 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


263 


to have been concealed before the vessel sailed; 
but the affair at Cherrystone Hill had rendered it 
dansreroiis for him to show himself in the town. 
He was refused a passage in the steamer, and 
then fell brck upon this arrangement. 

The scheme which had led to the discovery of 
the convict’s hiding-place had been invented by 
the mate. The approaching sail was not a man- 
of-war and the second mate had been stationed in 
his room to watch the movements of McFording- 
ham after he had been told that he was to be 
transferred to her. 

“I have had quite enough of you, McFording- 
ham,” I said to the convict, when I had settled 
the matter. “Mr. Spelter, if this man goes abaft 
the foremast, either on deck or below, put him 
in irons.” 

“I will,” replied the mate. 

I was not aware that there were any irons on 
board; but I was afraid the fellow had a mission 
^ith Larry, which he might attempt to execute. 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


2(34 


CHAPTER XIX. 

IN WHICH PHIL AND LARRY SET OUT ON A LONG 
TRAMP. 

I BEGGED Larry not to take any further no- 
tice of McFordinghain, for even the mock 
consideration extended to him inflated his vanity 
and induced him to take liberties which were in- 
tolerable to me, and especially so to the mate, who 
disliked “Longshanks” with an intensity which 
l)ordercd on hatred. Mr. Spelter kept a sharp 
eye upon him, and, I think, w^ould have been very 
glad to catch the fellow abaft the foremast, for the 
sake of giving him a little wholesome discipline ; 
but Mac w^as prudent, and did not furnish the 
opportunity. 

Our voyage was pleasant and prosperous, with- 
out an incident worthy of note after the events de- 
scribed. The routine of life on board was about 
the same every day. We ate, drank, slept, read. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


265 


played our games, and were quite as bappy as we 
should have been on shore, without the wonders 
of the sea to instruct and improve us. Lady 
Eleanor appeared to enjoy the trip to the end, 
though I think she began to weary of it before we 
arrived at our destination. Larry was very at- 
tentive to her, and 1 am afraid, if Blanche Feimi- 
more had been on l)oard, she would have been 
just a little jealous, because ladies can’t help 
such feelings; though, if she had been present, 
there would proba])ly have been no occasion for 
jealousy. We had some rainy weather, and a 
mild gale; but there was nothing that could be 
called severe. For half a day we were under jib 
and reefed mainsail, but the reef was only to save 
the nerves of the ladies. 

In twenty-one days from the Bermudas Ave were 
at anchor in King’s Road, near the mouth of the 
Avon, f(n^ the wind and tide did not permit us 
to ascend the river to Bristol. We landed our 
passengers and tlieir luggage at Portishead. 

“If you please, Captain Faningford, I will 
land here, and not trouble you to carry me iip to 
Bristol,” said McFordingham, as the boats were 
ready to depart from the yacht. 


266 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“I think you had better content yourself for a 
while longer on board,” I replied. — “Shove off.” 

The boats pushed oft*. 1 had bidden adieu to 
our passengers, but Larry went ashore, intending 
to accompany them to Bristol. 

“As I am an unwelcome guest here, I am 
anxious to relieve you of my presence,” added 
McFordingham. “It is not agreeable to the feel- 
ings of a gentleman to be in the company of those 
who do not want him.” 

“You should have considered that question be- 
fore you came on board,” I answered. 

“Circumstances alter cases.” 

“They do; and they alter this case so. that you 
can’t go on shore till your friends come to re- 
ceive you.” 

“I don’t understand you, Captain Farringford.” 

“As the matter now stands, you are an escaped 
convict. I do not intend to incur the charge of 
having assisted you to escape.” 

“My time has expired.” 

“I don’t know whether it has or not. Let 
others decide that question. I shall hand you 
over to thq authorities.” 

“(Japtain Farringford, I have had the highest 
opinion of you as a gentleman and a man of honor; 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 267 


and I did not think 3^011 capable of this degree of 
cruelty,” added the captain, his jaw falling at the 
announcement I made. 

“Do you think I would throw such a villain as 
you have proved yourself to be upon the com- 
munity ?” 

“Sir! I permit no man to cad me a villain,” 
exclaimed the convict, straightening up his long 
body. 

“It is quite time that we speak the truth. You 
went out to Cherrystone Hill with Miles Grimsby, 
armed with pistols, to waylay and murder our 
owner or myself, or ])oth of us. There is no other 
name than villain in my vocabulary for a man who 
does such a thing.” 

“Sir, I went out, as a gentleman, upon an affair 
of honor.” 

“That’s enough. W e will not argue the point. ” 

“You called me a villain. Captain Farringford, 
and I demand satisfaction,” cried the captain, 
shaking his fist in my face. 

“I’ll give you satisfaction,” said Mr. Spelter, 
who, with the second mate, laid violent hands on 
him, and tied his arms behind his back. “You 
are abaft the foremast.” 


268 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“This is ail outrage upon a British subject,” 
sputtered the prisoner. 

“All right, my hearty,” replied tiie mate, as 
ho made him fast to the rail on the forecastle. 

The boats returned, and the next morning we 
ran up the Avon, and went into the dock at 
Bristol. When the pilot went ashore, he sent 
a couple of officci s on board, and McFordingham 
was handed over to them. He said but little 
now, when he found that fine speeches were 
unavailing. 

“Captain Farringford, yon might have made 
a friend of me; but you have chosen to bo my 
enemy. I am your foe now; and, when you and 
your friend least expect it, I shall bo with yoii,” 
said he, as the officers were coming off\ “My 
time is out, and I shall not be sent back to the 
I>ermudas. I shall only be vexed and mmoyed 
by your conduct.” 

I do not know but this fellow thought himself 
an injured man; he talked and acted like one. 
The officers took him; but, unhappily, we had not 
yet seen the last of him. 

“Frinks,” I called, as soon as the captain had 
been removed. 

“Here, sir,” replied the hold-man. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


2C9 


‘‘We don’t want yon any longer/’ I continued. 

“I shipped for the voyage, sir.” 

“I will not have a man on board who is not 
faithful to his employers. You have been guilty 
of conspiracy in making our owner and the offi- 
cers liable for assisting a convict to escape; and 
you have endangered the safety of the vessel by 
moving the ballast. I am ready to go to the 
American consul’s with you, and execute the 
necessary bond.” 

“I didn’t mean any harm,” pleaded the man. 

I went on shore with him, and the consul de- 
cided that I had good cause to discharge him. 
He gave me his written and sealed consent to the 
discharge. I paid Frinks more than he was enti- 
tled to receive ; and 1 hope he left with the feeling 
that it is always better to do right than wrong. 

Leaving the yacht in charge of Mr. Spelter, I 
went to the hotel with my valise, where 1 was 
to meet Larry. (Jur passengers had already de- 
parted, and we were soon on our way to Bloom- 
ridge, the seat of the Grimsbys. I need not say 
that Larry was cordially and affectionately greeted 
by Sir Philip. The baronet was intensely indig- 
nant at the conduct of Miles; and I am sorry to 
say that he used some bad language in his anger. 


270 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“I’ll disinherit him! lUl cut him off with a 
shilling,” protested Sir Philip. 

“Don’t do it, sir. Give him a fair half of all 
you have to divide between him and me,” pleaded 
Larry. 

“I will not. He is a bad boy. Let him earn 
his bread by the sweat of his brow. The rascal 
has been borrowing large sums on the credit of 
his future prospects. He shall bo a beggar yet,” 
stormed the old gentleman. 

“He has done his worst now,” added Larry. 
“I beg you will not punish him for anything ho 
has done to me.” 

“He is a bad boy. He don’t deserve anything 
of me, and certainly he don’t of you. It is a pity 
he didn’t go to the bottom in liis yacht.” 

Larry had been turning the leaves of a large 
clasp Bible that lay on the centre-table, as Sir 
Philip paced the room. He raised the book and 
read, — 

“ ‘Ye have heard that it hath been said. Thou 
shalt love thy neighbor, and hate thine enemy. 
But I say unto you. Love your enemies, bless 
them that curse you, do good to them that hate 
you, and pray for them which despitcfully use 



'f/ff/f/f/J 


^//////, 


'/'///.■ 


//////, 


////■///// 
. . // /y . /////, 

■■f/////////A 

, i />yyyyyyyy# 

••'///■ ■ ■ ■ [ 


'///// 


7i,s///m 


/''/'/A 


W#J 


■////■/A//77//. 


Sir Philip’s Anger passes away. Page 270. 











• 




.}■ 


■ • M r 




/’^ : -.->T 


4’ ‘ * 
V ' w . 

< • 


. .. 4 ^ 

7 ::- 


. *» . * 




i 




• ' 

»• >* 

** < 


I • M 
# ' 



. * » • 

i » 



• •« ♦«• * 






4 ’'‘v 




H 




. I 

< • » 




•< * 


• ,V V 


^ V y' 

> -Vi^ 




^ « r « 

■iiP •* ’ ' '• - 

,* v-'* ■ 

, 'V'i^ ‘V-' 

^■ - • :f(;r %A' 

■ 'i ’ t rfff , .» * 

' j'/- ♦ • < 

■ V-vr-.H-v. -! 




I » 


. T 


% 

' « 


-I 


T •• 

.• \ 


. • I t ♦- 


i : 




. .• 




t 


• '* -■: ■ r • 

- ■• ‘* • i.\ ^ ■' • * . i*C» 

^ ■; • ■ . V . >' V s. .*' ' 

‘V/, :■■ ■: . ■; y v’ ' 

' ■; ■ ■'. - ■ ■ ■ ■ * ■.• • . •-•' 

' N - , ^ - ‘S'*. .'X'* • J 

! . • * - 'c* .• . 




' jbirji'^'V 


-0 :* 


* 

‘ A' / ' *■ 

\ 

, - ' •* • 

» : 

1 


^ 1 
. J 

• <&. v; . 


• 'I 

t - > ' . / 

• » 

• • i: > 


4 * '■ 
/ \ 


' ^ 

i - •• 

• S 


r 


l a 

r 


H * 

; ' • 


( .7.^ 

'• •A'*. 


.*. 


' • ." c 'T ' * ■ . ' . V#— ‘ v' 

/ • ' »• .','• ^ r.A-' ' ^ :V”-:‘ 'TitSwV 

vs "•■■ " '/ ■ ‘r '>v^v- l-M 

^^V ' ’LxS 

•' '"ViV -"-.V'/'i ■'‘' 'i--'’ ■■ ' ; ‘ - 


f^‘ -> I 


•nc^ "I 


#« 




;' >■* 

4 . 


! 

4 # 


■ ^' 

f 


t . ♦* 


i ■ 


I ' 




•V 


!• * 

■?. - . 

^ .W*L 







* « 


‘c ^ . 

. - > I 


-I ^ . - -J,.' • - 

. ' • , . - • ' m: . ,.-.,>S*-- 

,V.;. .■• -'• ■ ■ - •■ 

- " ' V --■' ■ • - ■ ■ > • ..- 




. . TS 

- / *• 


-vAs» 


I i 


• . ' 


A'. 




• M* 






. M .1 ^ • 

^*\y* j*** - • > 

.. s. '' . 


> V 

4 fc 


> 

•V 




3 • 


J 

,.“ • . 


« ■ " / i*r'‘ /’ ./ 

t -• • • ■■ 

U ■*,. i , rir. . 

• ' ’ ' J » C *. * 


V X 


I « 



• » 


•f . ► 


' I ir« 


’'r, 

1 * , , 




• •;* 

. i '. • » 

, . •- .'■■• s*' 


* f 


'V 

• V. r .'•: 


V-1 


L>' 


. . fc. , 

r V 


‘ r. 


-J' 




*•••• 


• » 

I 


.• t 


’> ■ : 


“ • •• , > 


I 

: / 


• T * iTv- S *• S' • * . , i ’ • ■ ''ifc ‘ ” * ' • *' ' 'a ’* i* h ^ ^ 

P •; *-■ •' s’l ’.. * ' • ■ •■■'^ - '.* » . • '• ' .’• T 

•^ . •• vs- •. •• ; S’-' '^■‘78 


■ ■ .-a 


y r » ;; ^ . ■- r ■-' . '''>r 

' : ' ■ V ‘-*'^4.^ v.vrvvr:;-^' 


» * 




i'": *'.•'•*»/•..- . 'y \ . .V' 

4, 

* M"'. i 


V 

V 





» ' .' 


• I 


.. . 

• I ••. 

^Uk ^ •* 

^ . ;• " 

. I ^ 4 . I L. ^ 


•■• -'■ S 





<»% 


. .. I ' 

J^’iv \.T 








THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


271 


you and persecuto you ; that yc may be the chil- 
dren of your Father which is in heaven; for he 
makcth his sun to rise on the evil and on the good, 
and sendeth rain on the just and on the unjust.’ ” 

The baronet paused opposite Lai ry as he be- 
gan to read. His lip quivered, and 1 thought he 
would fly into a passion with his grandson. He 
listened a moment. Larry was reverent and 
gentle in his manner and his tones. Before he 
had finished reading the passage, J. saw that Sir 
Philip’s anger had passed away. Larry closed 
the book, and the baronet dropped into his chair 
without another word. 

“If Miles had fired a bullet into my head, and I 
had only one brief moment to live, I should thank 
God that I had not tried to injure my cousin; that 
in my heart I had forgiven him,’' said my friend. 

“I dare say you are right, my boy; indeed, I 
know you are. We will think of the matter 
again,” replied Sir Philip. 

We staid at Grimsby Hall a week, and then re- 
turned to the yacht at Bristol. However interest- 
ing the details of our cruise from this port, around 
the south of England, to the coast of Norway, 
might be, I have not the space to give them. We 
put into various harbors; we spent a week in the 


272 


SEA AND SHORE ^ OK 


Isle of Wight; we w;uidered on the beaches at 
Margate; we poked our noses into Bonlogne-sur- 
Mer; we left the yacht at Flushing, and, after a 
run through Holland, joined her again at the Hol- 
der; and then made a long stretch to Bergen, 
where we arrived late in June. At Cowes we 
saw the Hermia, and learned that she was for 
sale, because Mr. Fitzgerald was tired of yachting. 
She had arrived about the time the Blanche did, 
which made her passage a week longer than ours. 

We were delighted with the Norwegian coast, 
and especially with the Fjord, through which we 
made our way to Bergen. We found two English 
yachts at anchor there, but we did not visit them, 
for we were in haste to commence one of the 
tramps upon which we had so long exercised our 
imaginations. Wo had purchased everything 
which pedestrians could need, and packed the 
articles in knapsacks. Gayly we strapped them 
on our backs, and set out upon our long tramp. 
The Blanche, i.i charge of Mr. Spelter, was to sail 
round the coast to Frederiksvaern, and await our 
arrival. We had spent a day in Bergen, and 
started early in the morning. 

We had our ‘‘sea legs” on, so that walking was 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 273 

not an easy thing at first. The earth was iin- 
steady under oiir feet, and kept rolling and jerk- 
ing. After a tramp of five miles we agreed that 
we were tired. Seeing a brook a short distaiic9 
from the road, we seated ourselves upon a rock 
on its bank, where we could refresh ourselves 
with a drink of water. We ate a slight lunch of 
sausage and English biscuit. 

‘AVe are a handsome couple, Phil,” laughed 
Larry. “We have been talking about this tramp 
through Norway for months, and now we are tired 
out after a walk of five miles.” 

“1 expected to be very tired at first,” I replied. 
“I never could walk a great distance after coming 
from sea; it makes my legs ache. But I notice 
that after a half hour’s rest I am as good as new.” 

“But have you any idea that we can make 
thirty miles a day?” 

“Certainly I have; forty if we choose, after we 
are broken in. I met a gentleman last year at 
Dresden who told me he had walked fifty miles in 
a day. When we get our sea legs off Ave shall be 
all right.” 

“I hope so, for I enjoy walking when I am not 
too tired.” 


18 


274 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“We have only about a dozen miles to walk to- 
day, and then we take a boat.” 

“lam ready for the boat now,” laughed Larry, 
as he lay back on the rock and closed his eyes. 

At this moment I heard the rattle of a couple of 
carioles, which soon passed in the road near us. 
They were occupied by Englishmen, and were 
going at a furious pace, and I could not see the 
faces of the travellers ; but I noticed that one of 
them was a remarkably tall man, and that the 
other wore a Scotch cap. 

“Larry, who are those jDeople?” I asked, as my 
companion started up. 

“How should I know?” he replied; “I haven’t 
been introduced to them.” 

“But look at the tall fellow.” 

“I see him.” 

“He has a big red mustache and bushy red 
hair.” 

“I’m willing.” 

“Well, I think you have been introduced to 
him.” 

“Possibly. Who is he?” 

“In my opinion it is Captain Gregory McFord- 
ingham, who promised to appear to me when I 
least expected to see him.” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


275 


“Of course the other fellow is Miles, then/’ 

“Very likely.’’ 

“But I don’t believe it. It is too absurd. 
Hoav could Miles and that tall flunky be here?” 

‘‘I don’t suppose they are here by accident; if 
they Avere it might be strange. Do you flatter 
yourself that Miles is done Avith you?” 

“I did think Ave Avere rid of him.” 

“Not yet. The rascal Avill follow you, or send 
some one after you, till you are out of the Avay. 
Norway is just the place for his operations.” 

“Hoav could he be here?” 

“Easily enough. I have no doubt he reached 
England before Ave did, even if he had to Avait 
a Aveek in New York for a steamer. Perhaps 
he came here in one of those yachts we saw at 
Bergen. I am sorry we didn’t ascertain more 
about them.” 

“But how should he know Avhere Ave Avere 
going?” asked Larry, Avho seemed to be rather 
troubled by the situation. 

“We stated our plans very clearly at the 
table of the governor in the Bermudas. You 
said Ave should take a tramp from Bergen to 
Christiania, by the Avay of the Vbringfos and the 


276 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


Rjukiiiifos. Then we talked it over with the 
yacht people at Cowes. 1 fancy that Miles knows 
just where we are going.’’ 

“Grant that Miles might be here; the captain 
must be on his way to the Bermudas before this 
time,” added Larry. 

“Doubtless the fellow sent for jNliles when he 
was in limbo. If the rascal’s time was out, per- 
haps he was discharged. The Hirinia was for 
sale when we were at Cowes, and very likely 
Miles bought her for this excursion. Don’t you 
think Ave had better change our route, Larry?’' 

“Not I, my boy. I won’t dodge Miles and 
his flunky. But perhaps it is fortunate that 
w^e brought our revolvers,” replied my friend, 
decidedly. 

After resting an hour, we resumed our walk, 
as fresh as in the morning. Before, noon we 
reached a post station on one of the fjords whose 
arms extend far inland, where, after dinner, we 
took a boat with two rowers. We saw nothing 
of the carioles or their occupants, who, if they 
were the persons I supposed, did not appear to 
be watching us very closely. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


271 


CHAPTER XX. 

IN WHICH PHIL AND LARRY VISIT THE VORINGFOS, 
IN NORWAY. 

E seated ourselves in the boat, in which 



T T we were to spend the afternoon, and had 
shoved oiT, when a cariole dashed up to the sta- 
tion-house on the shore. 

“Boat ahoy ! ” shouted a familiar voice. 

“That’s Spelter ! ” 1 exclaimed, making signs to 
the rowers to return, for I could not speak a word 
of their language. “I wonder what has hap- 
pened.” 

“Perhaps the Blanche has sunk or burned up,” 
suggested Larry. 

“Of course something has occurred, or he 
wouldn’t run after us.” 

The oarsmen pulled back to the shore, where 
we found the honest mate in a state of high 
excitement. We supposed he had sailed from 


278 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


Bergen before this time, and was on his way to 
Frederiksvaern. 

“What’s the trouble, Mr. Spelter?” I de- 
manded, as we landed. 

“Trouble enough, sir,” replied the mate, look- 
ing as solemn as an owl. “I couldn’t sail with- 
out letting you know the news.” 

“Well, what is the news?” asked Larry, laugh- 
ing. “Has the foreto’ -bobbin broke down, or the 
main-royal backstay given out?” 

“I don’t think it’s any laughing matter, Mr. 
Grimsby, though you may.” 

“Yoii don’t give me the means of judging yet,” 
added Larry. “If you will tell us what the 
trouble is, we shall know whether to laugh or 
cry. ” 

“Well, sir, Mr. Miles Grimsby is on your 
track again,” said the mate, delivering himself as 
though he had dropped a bombshell at the feet 
of his employer. 

“No; we are on his track, for he has gone 
ahead,” replied Larry “Of course you are 
aware that McFordingham is his interesting com- 
panion.” 

“Yes, sir. 1 came out here to tell you these 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


279 


facts; bat you seem to know them, and I’m sorry 
I came,” muttered the mate, disappointed because 
he had failed to produce a decided sensation. 

‘•My dear Mr. Spelter, you have done just the 
right thing at just the right time, and I am grate- 
ful tO' you for your interest and sympathy. We 
happen? >d to obtain a glance of Miles and his tall 
satellite as they drove l)y in carioles. We were 
sitting on a rock, out of the road, aiul I am con- 
fident they did not see us. We thought it even 
possible that we were mistaken. You have set- 
tled the matter finally and conclusively. You 
have done your duty faithfullyj as you always do, 
and I commend you.” 

“I was afraid they might drop down upon you 
with a blunderbuss or a pair of pistols, as they 
did in the Bermudas, ’’answered the mate, satisfied 
with the commendation of Larry. 

“Exactly so. But tell us what you know about 
them,” said Larry. 

“While I was waiting for the tide to turn, so 
that we could go to sea, I thought I would pass 
the time of day with the two yachts that lay in 
port. The first one I went to was the Hermia; 
and the first man I saw on board of her was 


280 


SEA AND SKOR®, OR 


Frinks, the man we discharged. He was impu- 
dent and saucy, and I wanted to wring his nose 
for him. He told me you didn’t make much by 
discharging him; hut I said we got rid of him, 
and that was all Ave wanted. He Avished to make 
it out that he Avas better off than in the Blanche, 
and was glad to get out of her. Then he couldn’t 
help tellhig me that Longshanks didn’t go back to 
the Bermudas, for a pettifogger had got him out 
of the scrape for five pounds, and that Longshanks 
had given him back the money you made him re- 
turn. They Avent to Cowes together, Avhere they 
found Miles, AAdio had just bought the Hermia. 
While I was listening to the felloAv, Osborne came 
out of the cabin, and I found he VA^as the sail- 
ing-master of the yacht.” 

“Miles has a pleasant company,” said Larry. 

“Well, sir, IkncAV what they Avere here for, and 
I went ashore as fast as four oars could pull me 
there. I knew you had started on your tramp, 
and I found that Miles and Longshanks had gone 
the same Avay. I didn’t like the looks of things. 
The landlord of the hotel Avhere you Averc told me 
all about it, and I made tracks after you. Don’t 
you think I’d better go Avith you on this tramp?” 
asked Spelter. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


281 


for?” 

^‘Well, 1 should like to get hold of Longshanks 
once more. I Avould make him wish he was in the 
Berm udas agai n . ” 

“I dare say you would, my marine friend, but 
discretion is sometimes better than zeal. I think 
I can take care of myself ; but I am grateful to 
you for your kind intentions. Now you may re- 
turn, and sail as soon as you are ready. You need 
not inform your friends where you are going,” 
replied Larry. 

“Not I. I listen, and keep still, myself, I sup- 
pose the Hermia will follow us wherever we go; 
but, if she isn’t faster than I think she is, she will 
have to sail by faith rather than by sight.” 

“Eight! I’ll trust you anywhere, Spelter. 
Good by,” said Larry, as we returned to our 
boat. 

The mate Avatched us till we were out of sight. 
Of his fidelity there could be no doubt; and the 
honest felloAV evidently did not like to have us 
incur the risks before us without his aid. At 
nine o’clock in the evening, though the sun w^as 
still above the horizon, we arrived at a place 
called Evanger, where we spent the night. We 


282 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


found a couple of Englishmen here, one of whom 
told us that two travellers, one of them very tall, 
had left for Vossevangen two or three hours 
before. 

“Of course they were Miles and the captain; 
but I don’t understand their game,” said Larry. 

“They know we are going to the Voriiigfos, 
and perhaps intend to wait there for us.” 

“They may have to wait a long time,” laughed 
Larry. 

In the morning we started on foot for Vossevan- 
gen, about twelve miles distant. The scenery 
was delightful, and we spent the whole day on the 
road. When we reached our destination we 
found capital quarters at the post station, which 
was on the bank of a small lake. The landlord 
spoke English very well, and had no guests in his 
house. Miles and the tall man had staid there 
the night before, and hastened on early in the 
morning. 

“They inquired for two young men,” added the 
landlord. 

“Have you seen the young men?” I asked. 

“Yes; they went forward the day before, and 
were going to Ulvik.” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


283 


Larry laughed, and thought “two young men” 
was rather an indefinite description. 

"We liked the hotel and the landlord so w^ell that 
we rcniained at this i)lace tliree days, one of 
which was Sunday, when we had the opportunity 
of seeing the people of the village at church in 
their best clothes. ^A'e went trouting one day in 
the lake, and the next in the river which flows 
into it. W e were realizing all w^e had anticipated, 
and Ave almost forgot Miles and his tall flunky. 
Again we set out on our tramp. AVe were now 
accustomed to the solid earth, and walked twenty 
miles ill one day, Avhich brought us to Ulvik. The 
“tall mail” hid not been there, and it was prob- 
able that Miles had gone from Eider directly by 
boat to Vik, which is the place from which excur- 
sions are made to the Voringfos. We went to 
Vik; the enemy had been there before us, and 
were at the falls; had gone the day before, and 
were expected to return that night. AVe engaged 
a guide and a boat for the next day. AA"e learned 
that there was a kind of shanty at the falls, where 
four persons could sleep very comfortably; and 
we decided to pass one night there, for the walk up 
and back Avas too tiresome to be made in one day. 


284 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


We crossed the lake the next morning, and com- 
menced our up-hill tramp. By noon we reached 
the falls. The scenery was the wildest we had 
ever seen. There were precipices two thousand 
feet high, and chasms twelve hundred feet deep. 
TheVoringfos itself is a cataract, which falls in 
one sheet about nine hundred feet. It was sub- 
lime ; and we were deeply impressed by the wild 
grandeur that surrounded us, which towered above, 
and was spread out beneath us. We stood on a 
shelf of rock which extended out over a chasm 
more than a thousand feet deep. Peder, our 
guide, had a piece of whale-line, about twenty- 
five feet long, the ends of which we secured 
around our bodies, while the bight of it w^as 
passed around a small pine tree. Thus guarded 
against any accident, we lay down on the rock 
and gazed into the abyss beneath us, while Peder 
went to the shanty to procure some milk for our 
1 linen. 

“That’s a big hole, Phil,” said Larry, as we lay 
on the rock, surveying the depths below. “If a 
fellow should tumble over, it w^ould be apt to 
wrench him a little.” 

“Don’t try it, Larry,” I replied; “it would 
make your head ache.” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


285 


think it would. But this is really the 
grandest thing I ever saw in my life.” 

^‘Well, I don’t know about that. It is high 
and deep, but it is not equal to Niagara.” 

“There’s not so much of it, I know; but it’s a 
biof thino:.” 

“No doubt of that.” 

I heard footsteps on the rock near me; but, 
supposing the guide had returned with the milk, I 
did not look behind me, being fascinated by the 
wild scene before me. Suddenly I felt a sharp 
pull on the rope. I supposed it was one of 
Larry’s practical jokes. 

“Don’t fool in sjich a place as this,” I pro- 
tested. 

The pine tree around which the rope was 
passed sent its branches out so far that I could 
not see my friend without rising. 

“I’m not fooling,” he replied. 

“Didn’t you pull the rope?” 

Before I could receive an answer, the rope was 
jerked again with so much violence that I was 
pulled back from my place. I sprang to my feet, 
the strain of the rope still bearing upon me. At 
the same instant Larry made a violent movement. 


286 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


I grasped the tree for support. As I turned, to 
my horror I encountered McFordingljain, and 
found that my friend was over the precipice, and 
supported only by the rope. The tadl villain had 
a pocket-knife in his hand, and I sjiw that he in- 
tended to cut the line. Larry was strui^Hinir at 
the rope, to draw himself up, and, if I had not 
held on at the pine tree, he would have dragged 
me after him. 

When I rose from my reclining position over 
the chasm, I let out nearly half the length of the 
line, and my friend dropped that distance below 
the edge of the cliff. With my left arm around 
the pine, I took from my pocket the revolver 
I carried. 

‘‘If you touch that rope, you are a dead man,” 
I shouted to the convict. 

“I only desire to save your friend,” replied 
McF or di ngham . 

“Begone ! ” 

I pointed the pistol at him, and he retreated. 
Suddenly the pressure on the rope ceased, and 
my heart came into my mouth. I pulled at the 
line, but there was no longer any weight upon it. 
I drew it up, and found that the knot in the end. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


287 


by which the loop had been secured, was untied. 
I threw myself upon the ground in utter horror 
and despair. My poor friend had dropped into 
the abyss beneatli. The cold chills swept through 
my frame, and the blood seemed to be frozen in 
my veins. Why had I not compelled Larry to 
shun this place while that tall fiend was on his 
track? Why had I permitted him to come here, 
when I knew that Miles and the captain had not 
returned to Vik? 

McFordingham stood at a short distance from 
me, where he had halted when I lowered the 
pistol. He looked terrified rather than guilty. 

“May I speak to you, Captain Farringford?’’ 
said he. 

“You have done your work,’’ I cried. 

“I have done nothing. I went there to warn 
you of the peril of that place,” replied he, in loud 
tones. “Poor Miles perished there yesterday, 
and — ” 

“Miles I” 1 exclaimed. 

“Will you hear me?” 

“I will.” And I walked towards him. 

“You will not believe that I could do so awful 
a deed as you say I have. Upon my honor as a 
gentleman — ” 


288 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


‘‘Did you say that Miles fell over the preci- 
pice ?” 

“Yesterday. Our guide is below now, looking 
for his remains. That is a very dangerous place; 
and when I saw you and your friend, — I did not 
know who you were,— I seized him by the legs. 
He kicked me, and in his struggle slid off the 
edge of the precipice, just as Miles did. They 
are together now,’^ replied McFordingham, wip- 
ing his eyes with a very dirty handkerchief. 

I could not believe the villain’s story, but be- 
cause he told it, rather than because it was im- 
probable in itself. 

“What were you doing with the knife in your 
hand?” I demanded. 

“I was going to cut the rope,” he replied, 
boldly. 

“Cut the rope?” 

“Yes; cut the rope, for I expected to see you 
go over after him, and I was determined to save 
one of you, if I could not both.” 

“Why didn’t you take hold of the rope and 
help me haul him up?” 

“I was afraid he would drag me over after him. 
If you had seen your best friend go over into that 
awful abyss, you would have felt as I did.” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


289 


‘‘I do not believe a word you have said,” I 
added. 

“You wrong me, Captain Farringford.” 

“You told me you would appear at a moment 
when I least expected to see you ; and you have. ” 

“I will not argue the matter. I attempted to 
save your friend, and I should have done so if 
you had not threatened me with your pistol just 
as I was going to pull him up.” 

“Villain! you were going to cut the rope, just 
now.” 

“If I could not save him, I should have cut it, 
in order to save you. You wrong me. I desired 
only to serve you both. If 1 had known who you 
were, I would not have gone near you,” muttered 
the wretch. “I knew that the rock on the edge 
of the precipice keeps breaking off, and letting 
people fall over ; l)ut you did not. I saw my poor 
friend go over, and I would save even my worst 
enemy from such a horrible fate.” 

I went back to the cliff, and lay down on the 
spot which Larry had occupied. I trembled and 
groaned with horror as I thought of him, lying 
mangled and dead in the abyss beneath. Was it 
even possible that Miles had met with a similar 
19 


290 


SEA AND SPTORE, OR 


fatey I could not yet believe it. I was be- 
wildered-, almost crazy, as I tried to discover the 
body of Larry in the dark depths beneath. 
‘‘Phil!'’ 

It was the voice of my friend, and apparently 
not ten feet below me. ]My heart leaped again. 

“Where are yon, Larry?” I called. 

“Here,” he replied, “all right.” 

“O, Larry!” I exclaimed. 

I turned, and found that the captain had de- 
parted. 




THE THAMES OF A THAVELLEH. 


CHAPTER XXI. 


IN WHICH PHIL RESCUES LARRY FROM A VERT 
PERILOUS POSITION. 

HE events which had occurred on the brink 



JL of the precipice were all cornpressed into 
the space of less than a minute — far less time 
than it requires to relate them. From the instant 
that I felt the first jerk of the rope till it ceased 
to bear upon my body, was hardly an instant. 
The branches of the Norwegian pine between 
Larry and myself prevented me from seeing him, 
and from seeing the captain when he appeared. 
At the first jerk of the rojDe I had spoken to my 
friend, and he had answered me, so that he could 
have had no suspicion of anything wrong until he 
went over the precipice, and was dangling above 
the deep abyss, held up only by the rope. Of 
course, when the pressure ceased, I concluded 
that he had fallen into the depths below. 


292 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


Horror and despair filled my soul then, though 
the intelligence imparted by McFordingham, that 
Miles had been the victim of a similar calamity, 
for an instant diverted my thoughts. I could see 
no reason why the villain should make such a state- 
ment if it were not true. Perhaps it was made to 
startle me, and throw me ofi’ my guard, in order 
to prevent me from using the pistol in my hand. 
I was confident that the exhibition of this weapon 
had saved me from being thrown over the preci- 
pice, though I was unable fully to comprehend 
the plan of the villain. 

I heard the voice of Larry. It was his voice, 
though it was rather hoarse and unnatural. The 
sound of my own name made my heart leap. My 
friend assured me he was all right, and I thanked 
God that he was still safe, though I knew not in 
what peril he might be at that instant. 

“Where are you?” I asked, a second time, 
as I looked over the cliif, and endeavored to 
see him. 

“Here; I’m safe,” he replied, in a kind of 
gasping tone, which alarmed me, in spite of the 
assurance his words contained. 

“I don’t see you,’* I replied. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


293 


“Do you see the bush below you?” 

I saw a little stunted pine, whose top projected 
beyond the rock wliicli overhung the chasm. 
Grasping the doubled rope, which still passed 
around the pine on the cliff, I leaned over as far 
as I dared. About ten feet down I discovered a 
shelf in the rocks, hardly more than a foot wide, 
on which stood Larry. From a fissure behind it 
grew the pine, to which he was clinging for life. 
My heart beat wildly when I saw the danger of 
his situation. 

“Hold fast, Larry,” I called to him. 

“I am all right,” he answered. “But I can’t 
hold out here more than a week or two.” 

It was a ghastly attempt to be funny, and the 
tones of his voice belied the humor he attempted 
to cultivate. I drew back with the utmost care 
before attempting to stand up; but as I did so, a 
large piece of the rock beneath me crumbled off 
and dropped into the abyss. My blood ceased to 
flow again, as I thought of the mischief it might 
have done. 

“Larry!” I called, in an agony of doubt. 

“All right, Phil,” he i^oplied; and I realized 
that the rock had not struck him. “Don’t throw 
any more of them down, for one may hit me.” 


294 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


I regained my feet. I looked and listened for 
any indications of the presence of the tall villain; 
but I concluded that he was satisfied with the 
work he had done, and had departed finally from 
the place. I made one end of the rope fast to the 
pine tree, near its roots, and then tested its 
strength with the strongest pull I could give. 
Tying a small stone to the other end of the line, 
I dropped it over the precipice. 1 swayed it 
back and forth till it swung in where Larry could 
reach it. 

‘‘Make it fast under your arms, Larry,’’ I 
called to him. “Be careful about the knot; your 
life dep>ends upon it.” 

He made no reply ; but the motion of the rope 
assured me that he was doing what I required. 
As he was no sailor, it was a long time before 
he appeared to be satisfied with the knot he tied. 

“All ready,” said he, at last. 

“Are you sure you have made it perfectly se- 
cure?” I asked. 

“I’ll risk it,” he answered, in a tone which 
had suddenly become cheerful — a result which 
I attributed to his confidence in the rope. 

“Are you comfortable now?” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


295 


“Not particularly. I should feel better in the 
cabin of the Blanche,” he replied. 

“Can you hold on a little while longer?” 

“Yes; half an hour.” 

“Ihn afraid I can’t pull you up alone. But the 
guide will be here soon.” 

“I can haul myself up,” he added. 

“Don’t try it.” 

“Just as you say, Phil.” 

My patience was nearly exhausted before Peder 
arrived with the milk. 

“Come quick!”! shouted, when I saw him at 
a distance, with a gesture which startled him out 
of his propriety, and caused him to spill half the 
milk in the vessel he carried. 

“What’s the matter?” he asked, looking wildly 
around him, as he placed the little wooden pail of 
milk on the rock. 

“Man the rope, here!” I replied, picking up 
the line. ‘ ‘All ready, Larry ! ’ ’ 

“I’m all right,” answered he. 

Peder uttered a succession of exclamations in 
his own language, and flew around like a parched 
pea in a hot skillet. His stock of English was 
not very large; and the more I talked to him, the 


296 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


more confused he became. I carefully examined 
the edge of the overhanging rock, to assure 
myself that no more of it could be broken off. I 
overhauled the line to see that there were no 
weak places in it, and instructed Peder how to do 
his share of the work. 

"‘Now, Larry, grasp the rope with your hands, 
and swing off,’’ I called to iny imperilled friend. 

I heard the straining of the line as he did so, 
and I could not help trembling when I thought 
how trivial a mishap might launch him into eter- 
nity. Peder and I seized the rope, and raised the 
precious burden slowly and cautiously, for we 
were in danger of dashing his brains out on tlie 
rock which projected out over the abyss. Sway- 
ing the rope out as far as we could, when Larry’s 
head came up to the edge of the cliff, we landed 
him safely on the top of the rock. 

“Thank God, you are safe! ” I cried, as I sank 
down, exhausted as much by my emotions as by 
the exertion I had made. 

Larry breathed heavily, and his face was deadly 
pale. He crawled a short distance from the prec- 
ipice, and lay gasping on the rock. Neither of 
us spoke for some time ; and 1 am sure that both 




Larry is saved. Page 296 





a A 




Tv ■ % 

s - 


; 








*4 


‘ N 


V‘ t. 




• • 


I- 


N« 


< » • •’ 

4 




- H - . ■ 

» ♦ '^ r . 


\‘ • y 




• >- • . ji» 


Mi* .• 

« 







•I 

w 


V 


‘ » L 


/jt; 


f I 


‘ w-^C'y X 


^ -N- ■• . ' 


< 4 

\ 


» i ' I 


I 

. % 


n. 


/ •» 


J 


* ^ 
t 




: •V>' ■K . . JL' .*' ■ ■'•. ■ . 


■: ; 










s ^ 

. .’•'S 

- A r>^ 


V.. 


r •-..♦< 




• ''■* » • '^4.^ > I* < * ' 

* /v. f 


A »•; •* 




I '» 




.) 




^ » 


f...* • 



M-*" 


•^ I 


. M "i. k ' 









i I'A U 
\ . 


*n’ 


v . > 


• .f 


;r" 5 -. 


J . r . i : 



' I 


< X 


I » 


* . 


• . k 


\ 


■/< 


•v «-A 


' . 'i 


.yv 






. \ 


,\ • 


I, 


r 




•r 




A -"a 


I 




-/• ‘ 

*frr 


tv* 


« » 




> v-v- 




• «r.; 

f * .4 JL 

Xi ^ 


\ 't 

/ 


- S».‘^ 

- v)v? • ■> 




; / 


» • • 


• « 


I 

« « 




t L 




« I 

; 




^ « 




I . • 


i ■« 


‘i . 


' * y > ' ^ • 


r 

» % 


« • 


• j • 

S'i 

'■■••V 


•I 

*• 




J 


# 

1 » 

' • 1 

▼ * • • 

* • , 

« ' 

t * 

••v* r.’ 

# 

, . • 1 . 

1 

• 

» 

• ^’'5• 

• t i . 

» 

A 

k' '‘* 

k » 

A 

« 

.• '' ■' " 

• 



.' ' 

* • 

' * -1 

' 1 

4 


.■■ V. .., • 

<* "•■“ • •. . 

' -t-'v 
;; :V,'V.'y 

' V •-> 

‘ r/ 

<' 

, 1 , .' w . 

■ ■p*' )i' 

: ■ 

’ / r A . .'I 

W'W*. ' 

•»« 1 , ■ * 

i J- . ' ' 

. / 

. f 

• % ’ 

J>;;, ;• 

. » 

- ' •- 

;;'v ‘ 





- . - rr:- . 



J « 




‘4 J"V* : 
f M ♦ * » I* • 


►^^ ** •• * 


r.v * - 

^>: - 


• ‘ * A ■ » 

• . ' « J 


• t 


\ 




%# ■» 


Nl*' 


►7? 

I ' 




} 


r 


<.ii 


' • I 

V-.' ».‘ 


r ' *\ 
i 


V .. • ;<J^ ’ 




. ^ ' vp 

/ ' 

It,... ' 

f ■ ‘ .'< S . 

' ‘.t •" * 




‘.i» 


A- 



« ^ • *■ i A » . ‘ ^ y ^ ^. ’» ««k 


V V > J #. ‘ O;- . - ^ ./ ,- i \ 1 *. k . '. V J 

■ * ' •*- •••:^ . . />r 


4 



THE TllAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


297 


of US thanked G ;d for his preservation from the 
depths of the heart. I was the first to recover 
my breath. The lifting of his weight, at arm’s 
length, over the cliff, htul required the outlay of 
all the strength I had, and for the time I was en- 
tirely used up. Pcder had been of but little ser- 
vice, for I could not make him understand what he 
was to do. 

“Take a drink of milk, Larry,” said I, offering 
him the pail. 

“I’m about played out,” he replied, faintly. 
“That scrape has taken a year’s growth out of 
me.” 

“I have been scared out of more than a year’s 
growth,” I added. 

He drank a portion of the milk, and I followed 
his example. Slowly he revived from his ex- 
haustion. Kaising himself from the rock, he sat 
up. He glanced at the cliff and shuddered. I 
removed the rope which was fastened to his body. 

“I don’t want to try that again, Phil,” said he, 
languidly. 

“A man fell over there yesterday,” added 
Peder, with a violent gesture, pointing to the 
rock. 


298 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“Who was he?” I asked. 

“I don’t know. He was with a very long man.” 

“Miles!” said Larry, with a start. 

“How do you know?” I demanded, sharply, 
for the intelligence seemed to confirm the state- 
ment of the captain. 

“The people at the house say so,” answered 
Peder. “The rocks break off and let him down.” 

“How do the people at the house know? Did 
any of them see him fall?” I inquired. 

“No; but the tall man say so.” 

“That’s one good reason why it is not true,” 
I added. “Do j’ou know when the tall man told 
them so?” 

I had to repeat the question in several different 
forms before Peder understood me. 

“Just now — this morning. The long man tell 
me to tell you he fall over,” protested Peder, 
warmly. “He tell me to tell you the people 
say so.” 

“Did the people tell you so?” 

“I say, he tell me to tell you the people tell 
me so; and I tell you so.” 

“Where is the tall man now?’* 

“Gone away.” 


THE THAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


299 


“Gone where?” 

“Back to Vik. I tell you what he tell me to 
tell you,” continued Peder, with the utmost sim- 
plicity. “He give me two species to tell you 
what I tell you.” 

“Did he?” I added, amused at the stupidity 
of the guide. 

“You don’t believe it. I show you the 
money.” And he produced two bills, each of the 
denomination of a specie dollar. 

Larry could not help laughing with me at the 
simplicity of Peder, who had entirely failed to 
understand what the tall man required of him. 

“Did he tell you a man fell over to-day?” I 
asked, thinking it possible the guide had made 
more than one mistake. 

“No; not to-day. Yesterday he fell over; the 
man with the tall man fell over; not this man,” 
replied Peder, pointing to Larry. 

I understood it very well. Peder had met Mc- 
Fordingham, on his return with the milk, and the 
villain had tried to have his story of Miles’s calam- 
ity confirmed, perhaps to save his principal from 
being implicated in the catastrophe to my friend. 
The captain had not told the guide that Larry had 


300 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


fallen into the abyss; and I was satisfied that the 
villain had departed from the vicinity in the full 
belief that he had etFectually removed the only ob- 
stacle to Miles’s succession to the title and estates 
of Sir Philip Grimsby. I was satisfied that Miles 
and his bravo would hasten away from the Voring- 
fos with all possible speed. I was not mistaken, 
for we neither saw nor heard of them in Norway 
again.” 

“You seem to know all about it, Phil,” snid 
Larry, after I had compelled Peder to tell all he 
knew concerning the tall man. 

“1 do know all about it.” 

“Do you happen to know how I slipped over 
that rock?” he asked. 

“I do. Don’t you?” 

“I haven’t the slightest idea.” 

“Do you mean so?” 

“Certainly I mean so. I joke sometimes; but 
I never felt less like doing so in my life than I do 
at this moment. I felt a twitch at the rope, which 
I supposed was given by you. Then you told me 
not to fool in such a place. I replied that I w^as 
not fooling, and was on the point of backing out, 
when I felt another pull at the rope; a piece of 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


301 


the rock broke away under my breast, and the 
next instant I was dangling over that big hole.” 

“Did you hear any footsteps on the rock?” 1 
asked. 

“I don’t know that I did; I don’t remember. 
But somehow I was conscious that there was a 
person behind me. I supposed it Avas Peder, and 
didn’t mind him. Tlie rope fetched me up Avith 
a sharp turn. Then it Avas let out, and I dropped 
doAAUi some distance.” 

“That Avas AAdien I got up, and stepped back to 
this tree.” 

“Reaching out Avith my leg, I hooked on to a 
bush, and hauled myself in. I found there Avas a 
shelf on the rock, and, with the help of the bush, 
I got upon it. It Avas not a good place to stand, 
Phil,” said Larry, as a tremor shot through his 
frame. 

“But how came the rope untied?” I asked. 

“I untied it,” he answered, with a languid 
smile. 

“What for?” 

“Because I knew you Avere made fast to the 
other end of it.” 

“That is the very reason why you ought not to 
have untied it,” I prc^tested, warmly. 


302 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“I Jim no philosopher, Phil, and can't argue the 
question. By the amount of line let out I knew 
you were near the pine tree; and it occurred to 
me that if I made a slip I should bring you down 
with me. There was no need of two of us going 
down into that black hole; and, as my chance was 
the poorer of the two, I thought I would cast off 
the line, and give you an opportunity to patronize 
some first-class life insurance company, at a 
proper time in the future." 

“Unselfish to the last, Larry!" I exclaimed, 
grasping his hand, and wringing it warmly. 

“Steady, Phil. Clap a stopper on the fore-to'- 
bobbiii. You’ll break off my fluke. I’m not one 
of those fellows who, when they go down in the 
world, want to drag others after them. My posi- 
tion was not a very comfortable one, and was very 
trying to the nerves. I felt better after one end 
of that rope was tied to my body, and the other to 
the pine tree. I have told you all I know about 
it; now, tell me what you know.” 

“The pull at the rope, which you and I both 
felt, was evidently given by McFordingham,” I 
replied. “I have no doubt he has been watching 
and waiting here for us. I suppose he took hold 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


303 


of the rope, lifted you up, and rolled you over 
the brink of the precipice.” 

“I don’t see how he could do that, and I not 
know it.” 

‘‘He is a very powerful man. He lifted you by 
the rope, and for aught I know, dropped you over. 
I didn’t see him till your fall jerked me away from 
the cliff. I got up and grasped the tree. I saw 
the villain, with his knife in his hand, and I 
showed him my pistol. He had a wholesome re- 
gard for it, aiid retreated.” 

“I heard your voice, but I supposed you were 
talking to Peder,” interposed Larry. 

“Then the pressure was removed from the 
rope, and I believed you had fallen into the 
chasm. I don’t want to feel again as I did then. 
You gave me a shock by casting off the rope. ” 

“Well, my boy, the shock was not so great as it 
would have been if you had struck the bottom of 
that hole. If you ever bet, you may bet high on 
that. I must say, Phil, that 1 have lost all respect 
for Captain Gregory McFordingham. I’m afraid 
his conscience has been neglected.” 

“And he has left these parts in the belief that 
you lie mangled and dead in that abyss,” I added. 


304 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“I shall be happy to disappoint him at the 
proper time.’^ 

We drank the rest of the milk, and lunched from 
our provision baskets; l)ut Larry was too much 
exhausted by the strain upon his nerves to walk 
amid the wild scenery of the Voringfos, and we 
kept still the rest of the day. We slept at the 
shanty that night, and the next morning renewed 
our rambles. We were careful not to go very 
near the edges of any precipices. In the after- 
noon we returned to Vik. The tall man had not 
been there, and we concluded that he and Miles 
had returned to Bergen by some other route. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


305 


CHAPTER XXII. 


IN WHICH PHIL AND LARRY GO THROUGH SWEDEN 
IN THE BLANCHE. 


remained at Vik several days, fishing 
▼ T and rambling among the wild scenery, 
till we had fully recovered from the shock of the 
events at the falls. 


We were in the most vig- 


onoiis health and spirits, and were well prepared 
for the long tramp before us. We had no knowl- 
edge of the future intentions of Miles Grismby. 
He and his tall bravo had gone to Ulvik; but we 
could not learn in what direction they had gone 
from this place. 

“I suppose it makes no difference to us where 
they have gone,” said Larry, as we were discuss- 
ing the question. 

“No. Miles is satisfied that he has done his 
work, and believes that you will not again cross 
his path,” I replied. 

20 


306 


SEA AND SHORE. OR 


“But he will net dare to show himself at 
Grimsby Hall, lest Sir Philip should ask him 
some hard questions.” 

“If he does, your grandfather will be able to 
give him better information than he possesses, 
after your letter has reached its destination.” 

“I only hope that Miles will remain in blissful 
ignorance of the failure of his villainy till we 
finish our tramps on the continent.” 

“Probably he will. His guilty conscience — if 
he is blessed with such a commodity as a con- 
science — will drive him into retirement for a 
time, until he can ascertain the result of his crime, 
and whether or not he will be held responsible for 
it. Undoubtedly he will send McFordingham to 
some remote part of the world, where he may not 
rise up against his employer.” 

“I think we shall not be troubled any more at 
present.” 

As I have said before, we heard nothing more 
of the conspirators in Norway. Early on one 
Monday morning we set out from Vik on our way 
to the Bjukanfos. Day after day we walked 
through the wildest scenery, or sailed on the 
inland lakes and rivers, enjoying every moment 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


307 


of the time, for we did not Aveary ourselves with 
hard Avalking, though we had become so tough- 
ened to the tramp that we could easily accomplish 
thirty miles a day. But we were a week in reach- 
ing our destination. The Rjukanfos is a waterfall, 
estimated to be about nine hundred feet high. 
The whole region is filled Avith cataracts, with 
Avdld mountain gorges, and tremendous precipices. 
We saw Avhat Avas to be seen there, and then con- 
tinued on our Avay to Christiania, where Ave 
arrived in another Aveek. 

At the hotel in this city we found letters await- 
ing us, AA'hich had been forwarded by the London 
banker, according to our direction. Among them 
was one from Mr. Spelter, dated at Frederiksvaern, 
where he had been at anchor for ten days. He 
informed us that the Hermia had folloAved him out 
of the Fjord from Bergen, but he had run aAvay 
from her the first day out, in a fresh breeze from 
the Avestward, and he had not seen or heard any- 
thing of her since. Larry had a letter from Sir 
Philip, and tAA^o from Blanche Fennimore. 1 found 
several from my father and mother, and one from 
Ella GraceAvood. The latter contained a photo- 
graph, which represented a lady so mature that I 


308 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


had some difficulty in believing that she was the 
identical little girl whom I had met on tlie Upper 
Missouri, and whom I had rescued from the 
Indians. I opened this letter first; but I only 
read enough of it to assure myself that she was 
well, before I attended to those from my father 
and mother. 

I wish I could give to my readers who have 
not been far away from home, some idea of the 
dread, the excitement, and the pleasure created by 
the reception of letters from the loved ones on an^ 
other continent. The wanderer hardly dares to 
oi)cnthem, lest they should contain intelligence of 
the sickness or death of some dear one, thousands 
of miles away, A\here it is impossible to reach 
him without crossing the dreary waste of ocean. 
Believed of this dread, the letters are then like 
the dews of evening to the parched earth. My 
father’s first letter contained bad news. My 
grandfather, Mr. Collingsby of Chicago, had died 
suddenly of paralysis. My mother’s letters en- 
larged upon the sad event, and I shed tears for 
her in her grief, which my own relation to the de- 
ceased could not have called forth. Mhen I had 
read all the letters of my parents, I turned again to 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


309 


that of Ella. It was rather more reserved than I 
liked in its tone ; but, though I was tenderly at- 
tached to her, our relations at home had been 
merely friendly; for I had not thought it quite 
right to win any j)romise from her until she was 
old enough to know her own mind. But the prin- 
cipal point of the letter was the announcement that, 
as her mother’s health was again failing her, the 
family would s lil for Europe in August, and spend 
the next winter in Italy. They intended to pass 
the months of September and October in Switzer- 
land ; and I was cheered with the hope that I 
might meet Ella there in our grand tramp to the 
south. Larry’s letters were all satisfactory, and 
Sir Philip was still in excellent health. 

AVe made several short trips to the interior from ^ 
Christiania, and then went by steamer to Fred- 
eriksvaern, where we were received on board 
the Blanche with cheers by the crew, for the men 
were tired of waiting in so dull a place. They 
were delighted to see us, and their faces were all 
decked with smiles. 

‘‘Well, how goes it, Mr. Spelter?” I asked. 

“It goes heavy here, with nothing to do, and no 
one to help us, ” replied the mate. “I had to scrub 


310 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


the ballast, to keep the men from getting up a 
mutiny.” 

“What's the matter with them?” 

“Nothing, except they want something to do. 
I allowed them to go on shore, and to sleep twelve 
hours a day. The hardest work in the world is to 
do nothing.” 

“That’s true; and we will not persecute them 
any longer. Get under way at once.” 

“All hands, up anchor!” shouted the mate. 
“Clear away the mainsail!” 

The sailors sprang to their stations with a will, 
and looked as cheerful as though every one of 
them had just inherited a fortune. In a few 
moments the Blanche was standing out of the 
harbor under all sail, for we did not even wait for 
a pilot. Larry and I went below as soon as tbe 
yacht was clear of the harbor. 

“We don’t find anything equal to this anywhere, 
do we, Phil?” said my friend, as he threw him- 
self on the divan. 

“Certainly not. But if we had not been on 
shore for three weeks, sleeping in the homely 
post-houses, and feeding on the simplest fare, we 
should not now enjoy ithalf so much. Our tramps 
make the yacht pleasanter.” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


311 


‘‘You are a philosopher, Phil, and 1 dare say 
you are right. I am sure this cabin never looked 
so much like a palace to me as it does at this mo- 
ment. I am afraid I shall not wish to leave these 
quarters again in a hurry. ” 

“Well, there is no law to compel you to do so.” 

“But I wish to see the interior of Sweden.”. 

“Very good; you may even do that without 
leaving the yacht. You can go through the Gota 
Canal to Stockholm.” 

“That’s an idea, Phil.” 

“You may then sail all over the great lakes 
of Sweden,” I added, taking our large atlas, and 
opening at the map of Norway and Sweden. 
“Here is Wenern Lake, one hundred miles long 
by fifty wide.” 

“I like that, Phil. The idea of sailing in the 
Blanche on a fresh-wator lake is rather pleasant, 
and altogether novel.” 

“But you may go through three or four other 
lakes — Wettern, Roxen, Mallar, and some smaller 
ones.” 

“Let us do it. But, Phil, how are we to beat 
against the wind in a canal? I doiiT believe the 
foreto ’-bobbin will do that for you.” 


812 


SEA AND SHOKE, OK 


¥ 

“We must have a small steamer to tow us. It 
will cost money ; and the canal dues will be an 
item, also.’’ 

“Right. I am struggling Avith all my might to 
spend my income; and this trip will help me out 
considerably.” 

I was quite as well pleased Avith the idea as 
Larry Avas: and Ave sat down to dinner, still dis- 
cussing the plan. I could not help contrasting our 
elesrant dinner with the coarse meals of Avhich we 

c5 

had partaken at the post-houses, for the steAvard 
seemed to have taken particular pains on the 
present occasion, perhaps because he had been 
idle so long. Life in the cabin of the Blanche was 
so very delightful that neither of us cared to leave 
it again at present. 

With the fresh breeze we reached Gottenburg 
the next morning, and on the folloAving day all our 
arrangements were completed . for the trip. We 
engaged an interpreter to do our talking for us, 
though Ave had a Swedish sailor forward. We 
chartered a little steamer to toAV us through, and 
early in the morning we sailed for our inland trip. 
The first part of it Avas through the Gota River, 
though Ave occasionally passed through a canal to 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


313 


avoid a rapid. In the afternoon we walked around 
the Falls of Trollhatten, enjoying the delightful 
scenery, while the Blanche was going through the 
long series of locks. Indeed, Avehad Avalkcd half 
the distance during the day, and Larry insisted 
that Ave were working our passage. In the even- 
ing Ave reached the great lake, and moored to the 
shore for the night. 

At daylight in the morning, Avith a pilot on 
board, Ave sailed again, the steamer towing us out 
into the lake. As the sun rose, a smart breeze 
from the westward sprang up, and I told Mr. 
Gpelter to hoist the mainsail and set the jib. As 
soon as this Avas done, the toAv-line slackened up, 
and Ave were in great danger of running over the 
steamer. 

“Cast off the tow-line,’’ said I to the mate, 
“then set the foresail.” 

“Ay, ay, sir,” laughed Spelter. 

The order Avas obeyed, and the tow-boat sheered 
off. The foresail Avas hoisted, and the Blanche 
lay down to her work in earnest. It was soon evi- 
dent that we were running aAvay from our escort. 
We Avere bound to Carlstad, at the northern ex- 
tremity of the lake. The skipper commenced 


314 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


a famous yelling when we began to get away 
from him. 

<^What is the matter with him?” I asked of the 
interpreter. 

“He wants the money for towing you up from 
Gottenburg.” 

“Does he think we are going to run away from 
him ?’ ’ laughed Larry. “Heave to on your foreto’- 
bobbin, Phil, and tell him I will pay him for his 
time till we get to Stockholm.” 

We came up into the wind, and allowed the 
steamer to approach. The interpreter explained 
our plan to the captain; but he was not satisfied. 
He insisted upon his money for what he had done, 
and I paid him. He promised to be at the en- 
trance of the canal on the east shore of the lake, 
the next day, to tow us through. We filled away 
again, and the wind increased in force till we had 
all we could stand without shortening sail. It was 
not a gale ; but the surface of the lake was cov- 
ered with white caps, and had quite a stormy 
appearance. As we went out farther from the 
shore, we found an ugly chop sea, which kept the 
yacht bobbing and bowing like a French dancing- 
master. At breakfast time the dishes would not 
stay on the table. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


315 


“How’s this, Phil?” said Larry, as the contents 
of his coffee-cnp were jerked into his lap. 

“Rather rougli.” 

“Rou^li on my trousers, and rather warm, too,” 
laughed he. “Why, it’s worse than a gale on the 
ocean.” 

“It is one of these fresh-water seas — just what 
we used to have on Lake Michigan ; but this yacht 
is so much bigger than the Ella, in which I used 
to sail, that it is smooth here compared with what 
I have seen.” 

“1 don’t like it,” protested Larry, 

“You will soon get used to it. Take another 
cup of coffee, and drink it while you may.” 

“No more, thank you.” 

“What’s the matter, Larry?” 

“I don’t knoAv; but I don’t feel just right.” 

I saw that he was very pale. I may as well 
hasten to the sad conclusion. My friend was sea- 
sick. He went on deck, but was soon obliged to 
take to his berth. There he lay till two o’clock 
in the afternoon, when we made Carlstad, having 
logged twelve knots all day. As soon as the 
motion ceased, Larry immediately recovered, and 
ate a hearty dinner with me in the cabin. Not less 


316 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


th.Mii four of our seamen were sick also, the motion 
of the vessel on the lake was so different from 
that on the ocean. 

“I have had enough of this thing,” said Larry. 

“You won’t be sick again. Don’t give it up 
so.” 

“I am ashamed of myself, Phil, I have crossed 
the Atlantic three times without being seasick; 
and here I am knocked over on a little fresh-water 
pond! It is mortifying; and I am disgusted with 
myself.” 

“It is not your fault.” 

“But I lose confidence in my stomach. I 
thought it was lined with zinc, and would stand 
anything. Now it has gone back on me.” 

“Four of our old salts Avere seasick, too — had 
to go below and turn in ; men who have been to 
sea all their lives.” 

“Is that so?” 

“It’s a fact.” 

“Then I am comforted; for I am only human, 
like them. I like that paddling through the canal. 
It is the most delicious sort of idleness I ever 
experienced. You keep moving, and can see the 
people and the country as you go along. It isn’t 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


317 


like being snaked tliroiigli a country in a railroad 
train so fast that the telegraph poles look like a 
fine-tooth comb.'’ 

“If we have a breeze to-morrow, we shall be in 
the canal again to-morrow afternoon.” 

“You marine gcuitlemen always whistle for a 
breeze; and sometimes you overdo it. Don’t 
whistle any more, Phil; and I shall be content to 
wait till day after to-morrow for more of the 
canal glories.” 

“I Avon’t Avhistle, Larry.” 

We Aveut ashore and strolled through the toAAm. 
At night the lake Avas calm, and the next day Ave 
had only a gentle breeze. The balloon-jib Avas in 
order then, and Avre had a delightful passage to the 
canal. The pilot Avas astonished at the sailing 
qualities of the Blanche. We passed near a mul- 
titude of islands, full . of natural beauty, and at 
noon Avere in the canal, Avhere the little steamer 
Avas waiting for us. We Avent on till dark, and 
then lay up for the night, for Ave Avere unAvilling 
to lose the vieAV of the pleasant scenery. In this 
manner we passed through the canal, emerging 
first into a l)road ])ay, bordered by loA^ely shores, 
and then into Lake Wettern, where Ave again 


318 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


cast off the tow-line, and for a joke towed the 
steamer some twenty miles to Motala, where we 
spent another night. Passing through another 
bay, another lake, and a considerable length of 
canal, we entered the Baltic. Coastinof amonsf 
the islands for a few hours, we again passed 
through a canal to the Malar Lake, and in the 
evening reached Stockholm. The trip through 
the canal was delightful in every respect. 

We went to the Hotel Rydberg, to see who was 
there from our country, Larry found an English 
gentleman whom he had met at Grimsby Hall. 
While they were discussing a question which was 
interesting to them, but not to me, I walked out 
into the street to see the passers-by. The first 
person that attracted my attention was a gentle- 
man six feet and a half high, with red hair. He 
was elegantly dressed in black ; but I promptly 
recognized in him our old acquaintance, Captain 
McF ordingham. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


319 


CHAPTER xxm. 

IN WHICH PHIL AND LARRY MEET McFORDINGHAM 
ON TWO SPECIAL OCCASIONS. 

I WAS not very much astonished to see Mc- 
Fordingham in Sweden, for we had last met 
him in Norway. A wonderful change had taken 
place in his appearance, for he had entirely dis- 
carded all his peculiarities of dress. He looked 
like a gentleman, and I am obliged to acknowledge 
that his air was rather “distinguished.’’ The cap- 
tain sauntered into the cafe connected with the 
hotel. I had no difficulty in coming to the conclu- 
sion that Miles Grimsby had paid him liberally for 
the foul service rendered. Through an open 
window I saw the captain seat himself with his 
back to the door. I entered, and took a place in a 
corner behind him, where I could look out into the 
street. 

As the satellite was here, I supposed that Miles 


320 


SEA AND SHORE, OK 


could not b{x(ar oft\ and it was probable that the 
Hermia was ali^ in port. I sat for half an hour 
watching the movements of the tall villain. He 
sipped his brandy in silence ; but Miles did not 
join him. I went to the porter’s office, and 
examined the list of guests in the house; but 
I found neither the name of the master nor the 
man. On my return to the cafe, McFordingham 
was conversing with an English gentleman who 
was seated opposite to him. I placed myself near 
enough to hear them; but as they were talking in 
quite a loud tone, this was no breach of j^ropriety. 
I noticed that the stranger called the captain 
Major Lord. I had seen this name on the porter’s 
book. The convict had found it best to change 
his name. Something was said about the ladies, 
and a ride to the Deer Garden, which is the prin- 
cipal park of the city. Presently the two gentle- 
men rose, and I put my face behind a newspaper, 
to avoid being recognized. 

In a few moments more a carriage was drawn 
up in front of the hotel. The English gentleman 
and two ladies appeared, attended by McFording- 
ham, who very politely handed them to their seats^ 
The ladies were both elegant in their manners, and 
one of them was quite pretty. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 321 


‘‘Who are they?” I asked, when the porter 
returned to the hall. 

“One of the gentlemen is Sir Walbridge Blount, 
and the other Major Lord. One of the ladies is 
Sir Walbridge’s wife, and I really don’t know who 
the other is,” answered the porter. “They are 
going out to the Deer Garden, and will dine at 
Hasselbacken.” 

“What’s up, Phil?” asked Larry, coming down 
from the room of his friend at this moment. 

“Our excellent friend. Captain McFordingham, 
is here,” I replied. 

“And Miles?” he asked, with a start. 

‘ ‘I haven’t seen him. ' ’ And 1 stated the circum- 
stances under which I had observed the convict. 
“We will dine at Hasselbacken, Larry, if j^ou 
please.” 

“Certainly, Phil, if such is yonr pleasure.” 

“I will notallow this villain to impose himself 
upon respectable people,” I protested. “Doubtless 
he thrust himself upon them, as he did upon us, 
on the train or the steamer. He is a plausible 
fellow, and I suppose Sir Walbridge has not an 
army list with him,” 

We drove to the Deer Garden, and in the 
21 


322 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


course of the afternoon, after we had examined 
the beauties of the place, we found Sir Wal- 
bridge’s party in a pavilion, waiting for dinner. 
We took places near them, but behind the captain. 
He was very attentive to the fairer of the two la- 
dies, who sat opposite him. After the soup, he 
rose to pick up her handkerchief, which she had 
dropped. As he was returning to his place, he 
happened to glance at me. He started and turned 
pale, but he did not see Larry, whose back was 
to him. 

“Ah, Captain McFordingham! ’’ I exclaimed, 
loud enough for all the party to hear me. 

As I spoke, I rose and advanced towards him. 
He was very pale, but he did not lose his self- 
possession, or, rather, his impudence. 

“This is very unexpected. Captain McFording- 
ham,” I added, laying particular stress on the 
name. 

“Major Lord, if you please,” said he, coolly, 
adjusting an eye-glass over his left eye, and gaz- 
ing at me with a sort of pitying and contemptuous 
expression. “I believe I have not the pleasure 
of your acquaintance. May I beg the favor of 
your name?” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


323 


“You knew my name well enough when 3^011 
were a convict at the Bermudas,” I replied, so 
distinctly that all the paity could understand me. 

“I have not the least recollection of ever hav- 
ing seen you before,” he added, adjusting his 
glass again. “You have mistaken the person; 
and any such indecent allusion as you made to me 
just now will subject you to personal’ chastise- 
ment.” 

“Nevertheless, you are wdiat I say you are — a 
convict, transported for embezzling your master’s 
property.” 

“The presence of these ladies insures your per- 
sonal safety for the present; but we shall meet 
again, if you don’t run away,” said he. 

“Or you don’t,” I added. 

He seated himself again, and resumed his polite 
attentions to tlie lady in front of him, wlio seemed 
to be very much embarrassed by the scene which 
had just transpired, 

“Ah, Mr. Grimsby, I am glad to meet you 
again,” said a young gentleman, stepping up to 
our table at this moment. “You said you would 
not come to Hasselbacken with me.” 

‘ ‘I didn’t know that I would then. I told you I 


324 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


must join my friend, Captain Fairinnfoid, ^vhom 
permit me to introduce/’ 

It was Mr. Whistleton, whose acquaintance Lar- 
ry had made at Grimsby Hall. I shook hands with 
him, and he joined us at dinner. 

“Ah, Whistleton, are you here?” said Sir 
Walbridge. 

“I am here. This is Mr. Lawrence Grimsby, of 
Grimsby Hall, and this is Captain Farringford,” 
replied our new friend. “And this is Major Lord, 
formerly of the India service.” 

Larry rose and bowed as his name was men- 
tioned. Major Lord sprang to his feet, and shook 
like an aspen, as he gazed at the form and features 
of his late victim. 

“You have seen him before, if you haven't seen 
me, ” I suggested. 

“Excuse me, ladies; I thought it was Mr. Miles 
Grimsby, who assured me a week ago that he was 
on his way to Italy, and I was utterly astounded 
to meet him here.” 

“This is a very pretty farce, Captain McFord- 
ingham,” added Lariy. 

“You insist that I shall be Captain McFording- 
bam, in spite of my protest, and I may as well sub- 
mit,” said the tail villain, with a sickly smile. 


THE TRA]MrS OF A TRAVELLER. 


325 . 


“I shall insist,” replied Lany. “If you don't 
believe that you are Captain McFordingham, I 
have the means at hand of proving it to your en- 
tire satisfaction, and that of your friends.” 

“Clearly a mistake,” added the captain. “Per^ 
haps I may accept your apology, when you are 
ready to offer it.” 

He seated himself again, and Sir Walbridge’s 
party seemed to be too much confounded to say 
anything more; l)ut I observed a marked coldness 
on the part of the ladies towards him. Mr. Whis- 
tleton informed us that the lady upon whom the 
captain lavished his attentions was Sir Walbridge’s 
wife’s sister, and that she had a fortune in her own 
right. In the evening we returned to the city. 

Of course Sir AVal bridge and the ladies were 
very much disturbed by the events of the after- 
noon, and were anxious to obtain an explanation. 
But McF ordingham was always in the way. I in- 
vited Mr. Whistleton to visit the yacht, which was 
now moored at the quay near the palace. We 
slept on board, as usual. 

Early the next morning Mr. AAdiistleton, attend- 
ed by Sir Walbridge, came < :i board, and we gave 
them a full history of McFordiiighain, They had 


326 


SEA AND SHOKE, OR 


made his acquaintance in Copenhagen, and he had 
accompanied them through the Gota Canal. I as- 
sured them that every one of my crew could iden- 
tify him, and referred them also to Lady Eleanor 
and Mr. Langford in England. They were satis- 
fied, and we went up to the hotel with them. 
McFordingham was in the coffee-room, apparently 
waiting for them. 

‘ T am satisfied now that you are an impostor 
and a villain,’^ Sir Walbridge began, warmly. “If 
you presume to speak again to either of the ladies 
whose acquaintance you made under a fictitious 
name, I will horsewhip you at the first convenient 
opportunity.’" 

“Sir Walbridge, I am the victim of false repre- 
sentations,” protested McFordingham. 

“I don’t wish to hear another lie from your lips. 
I have investigated the subject for myself. I have 
nothing more to say.” 

Sir Walbridge and Mr. Whistleton left the caf^, 

“lam indebted to yow for this,” said the vil- 
lain, walking sharply up to me. 

“You are,” I replied. “I deemed it my duty 
to expose an impostor.” 

“We need not quarrel,” he added, biting his 
lips. 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 327 

“No; but we must agree to disagree.’^ 

“I bear no malice. Miles Grimsby has gone to 
Italy. We have separated.” 

“It was time you did so. 1 suppose you have 
been well paid for your services.” 

“My fortune is made; and I shall be as glad 
to serve you as I was to serve Miles.” 

“We do not need your aid.” 

“Well, then, if you will tell me which way you 
are going, I will go the other way. 1 can injure 
you, but I have no desire to do so. We will be 
quits, if you say so.” 

“We shall be quits, any way, until you attempt 
to impose upon respectable people. Then I will 
go a thousand miles to expose you,” I added. 

“As you please. I am rather surprised to see 
Mr. Grimsby here,” said he, coolly, as he glanced 
at my friend. “Certainly he fell over that prec- 
ipice.” 

“Certainly I did. Captain McFordingham,” in- 
terposed Larry; “but being used to hard knocks, 
my fall did not seriously injure me, as you per- 
ceive.” 

“You seem to be sound.” 


“Quite so; no thanks to you.” 


328 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“But I did the best I could to save you; and 
failing of you, to save your friend. But I suppose 
my efforts startled you, and caused you to fall.’’ 

“Very likely. I suppose Miles went over in 
the same way. I think you said he had gone to 
Italy.” 

“That was an amiable fiction, merely intended 
to distract the attention of Captain Farringford, 
who was disposed to discharge his pistol at me. 
Miles has gone to Italy, and believes that his 
cousin is dead. He is satisfied, and so am I; 
though it appears that you were not injured by 
your fall. I am glad you were not. I should 
have been unhappy all my days in the thought 
that you had lost your life thi’ough my injudicious 
attempt to save you. It is well as it is. Let us 
part ill peace. Good morning, gentlemen. ’ ’ 

He turned on his heel, and abruptly left us, 
bowing himself out with his usual politeness. 

We saw the sights of Stockholm and its vicinity 
with Sir Walbridge’s party, and then invited them 
to go to St. Petersburg with us in the Blanche. 
They accepted the invitation. We went to Mos- 
cow and Nijni, and then returned to the capital. 
With our friends still on board, we cruised in the 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER 


329 


Baltic to Copenhag(3ii, where oiir guests left iis. 
We went round to Hamburg, and directed Mr. 
Spelter to sail the Blanche to Genoa. Larry and 
I started upon another tramp across the country. 
But we intended to walk only through the most 
interesting regions; and we went by railway to 
Cologne. From this point we tramped on. the 
banks of the Rhine to Baden-Baden. We trav- 
elled slowly, and enjoyed ourselves all the time. 

At Baden-Baden we found McFordingham again, 
staking large sums at the gambling tables, with 
what success we had no means of knowing. He 
appeared to be on excellent terms with some of 
the “first families,” and to be in the enjoyment of 
the smiles of the ladies. We asked his name, and 
ascertained that he was now “Major McPherson, 
formerly of the India service.” I wondered that 
he was not a colonel by this time, since his promo- 
tions were in his own hands. But he seemed to 
cling to the rank of major. Larry and I walked 
up to the table where he was an interested actor 
in the game of rouge-et-noir. 

“What luck do you have. Captain McFord- 
ingham?” said Larry, in a tone loud enough to 
startle all near the table, where silence is the pre- 
vailing rule. 


330 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


The tall man suddenly turned upon my friend 
as though he had been electrified by a bolt from 
the clouds. His wrath overcame his coolness and 
his politeness this time, and he sprang at Larry’s 
throat with the fierceness of a bloodhound. This 
conduct was so utterly different from anything he 
had exhibited before that I was startled by it; but 
I promptly rushed to the assistance of my com- 
panion. With the help of others, 1 dragged the 
villain off, and a policeman interfered after the 
scuffle was over. 

“You are violent. Captain McFordingham,'’ 
said Larry, restoring his deranged dress. 

“There is some mistake,” interposed an Eng- 
lish gentleman. “This is Major McPherson.” 

“Not at all. He is not even a captain in any 
service, but was the footman of Lord Bergamot, 
and was sentenced to ten years’ transportation for 
embezzling his master’s property.” 

“Lord Bergamot’s footman!” exclaimed the 
Englishman. “Impossible ! ’ ’ 

“Quite impossible,” added McFordingham, who 
had by this time recovered his temper and his self- 
possession. “This American person, with whom I 
had some difficulty in Stockholm, takes the most 



Captain McFokdingiiam is Angry. Page 330. 









THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


331 


dishonorable method of annoying me. I regret 
that I allowed my temper to get the better of me; 
but 1 purpose to chastise this individual at a prop- 
er time.” 

“You have attempted to chastise him several 
times before,” said Larry. 

“Did I hear my name mentioned here?” said a 
gentleman of thirty years of age on the outskirts 
of the crowd, who had evidently just entered the 
room. 

“That depends upon what your name is, sir,” I 
su^^ested. 

“I am Lord Bergamot, and I thought I heard 
my name as I came in.” 

“You did, sir. Do you happen to know that 
tall gentleman?” I asked, pointing to the captain, 
whom he had not yet seen. 

“Ton my word ! ” exclaimed his lordship, push- 
ing his way into the centre of the group. “Why, 
Greg, are you here ? and dressed like a gentleman, 
too?” 

“Lord Bergamot! ” ejaculated the English gen- 
tleman who had taken a prominent part in the 
scene; “some one here says Major McPherson 
was your footman.” 


332 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“Fniy, who is Major McPherson?’^ asked his 
lordship, as the convict tried to slink away. 

“Why, the tall gentleman.” 

“That Avas my man Greg, surely. I have really 
forgotten his other name.” 

“McFordingham,” I added. 

“That’s it. He is no major; and, I am sorry to 
say, he Avas sent to the Bermudas for ten years for 
stealing my plate and other valuables. Isn’t 
that so, Greg?” 

But Greg had crept out of the room, and Larry 
and I had a chance to tell our story. The rascal 
left the place at once, and that was the last Ave 
ever saw of him, though Ave heard of him again, 
when, after he had spent all his ill-gotten Avealth, 
he was transported to Botany Bay for picking a 
gentleman’s pocket. 


THE TRAjVIPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


333 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

m WHICH PHIL AND LAP.RY FINISH THEIR TRAMPS, 
AND SETTLE DOWN FOR LIFE. 

L eaving Bjiclen-Baclen, we walked through 
the Black Forest to Schaffhausen ; and, after 
a day at the Falls of the Rhine, we continued the 
tramp to Zurich, where, to my great joy, I found 
the Gracewoods. My old instructor gave me a 
cordial greeting, and said I had grown so much, 
and looked so brown and tough, he should hardly 
have known me. Ella received me with a blush, 
and with a degree of emotion which assured me 
that I had not been long out of her mind at any 
time, as she had not been out of mine. It took a 
whole day to discuss the past, and we reviewed 
all the events which had occurred in the wilds of 
the Upper Missouri. 

In memory of old times we took a boat, and I 
rowed her far out upon the lake. She had grown 


334 


SEA AND SHORE, GU 


tall and graceful in form, and had really become a 
woman. As I sat in the boat facing her, gently 
plying the oars, we spoke of the days when I had 
so often rowed her upon the Missouri. From this 
I was led to tell her how much I thought of her 
then ; and, of course, I could net help adding that 
my views had not changed, and, more than this, 
they never would change. Indeed, I believe I 
said a great many things that would seem very 
silly to anybody else, and therefore I shall not 
repeat them. “-I had carried her image in my 
heart in all my wanderings,’’ and all that sort of 
thing. Had she ever thought of me? And she 
answered me in monosyllables, at first, till finally 
we came to an excellent understanding in re£:ard 
to the matter which was nearest to the hearts of 
both of us. 

Somehow I felt very ethereal when I landed, 
and walked by Ella’s side to the hotel. Every- 
thing looked airy to me, and I felt perfectly satis- 
fied with myself and everybody else, especially 
the fair girl at my side. I don’t know whether 
we made any promises or not. It did not seem to 
me that any were necessary, for when she pressed 
my hand in response to the pressure of my own, 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


335 


it MRS to me the significant telegraphy of hearts 
that required no formal interpretation in cold 
words. That evening 1 spoke to her father on 
the subject, who only laughed, and said he and 
Mrs. Grace wood had long regarded it as a fore- 
gone conclusion. 

We staid a week at Zurich, which, somehow, I 
have ever since regarded as the pleasantest place 
in all Switzerland, and that lake like the streams 
of Paradise ; but doubtless the opinion was the 
result of association, and I am not disposed to 
quarrel with those who think Lucerne is a more 
agreeable residence. 

Larry was in a hurry to resume our tranps, and 
to join the yacht at Genoa; but he bore with me 
patiently for several days, under the civ’ciim- 
stances. The doctors had advised Mrs. Gracewood 
to try the climate of Sicily in November, and I ex- 
pected the Blanche would put into Messina on her 
return from the upper Mediterranean, so that I 
was comforted with the hope of meeting Ella 
again in two months. 

Larry and I walked to Lucerne, and, passing 
through the lake by steamer, set out upon our 
tramp over the Pass of St. Gothard. We spent a 


336 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


week on the road, and another on the Ihiliaii lakes, 
so that it was the middle of September when we 
reached Genoa. The Blanche had been in port a 
fortnight, and Mr. Spelter, to keep the men con- 
tented,. had thoroughly overhauled the vessel, and 
given her a fresh coat of paint, so that she pre- 
sented a very neat jippearance when we went on 
board. We spent a couple of days in Genoa, and 
then sailed for Naples. 

‘‘What yacht is that, Mr. Spelter?” I asked, as 
the Blanche approached the Mole, 

“If I’m not mistaken, it is the Hermia,” replied 
the mate. 

“McFordingham said Miles had gone to Italy; 
but 1 did not suppose he spoke the truth,” 1 
added. 

We anchored near her, and we had hardly se- 
cured our sails before a boat put off from her and 
came alongside the Blanche. Osborne was in the 
stern-sheets. I did not suppose that he knew any- 
thing about the events which had transpired in 
Norway, for Miles had probably been careful to 
keep his terrible secretin his own bosom; but I 
concluded that he had sent his sailing-master to 
see me, and hear what I hact to say. Osborne 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


337 


a^kcd me where we had been ciTiisiiig, and similar 
questions. He did not seem to be at all astonished 
at seeing Larry, and I was sure that the secret 
had not been imparted to him. 

“Is Mr. Grimsby on board?” I asked. 

“No, sir. He is sick on shore,” replied Os- 
borne. “We have been waiting three weeks for 
him.” 

“What ails him?” 

“Well, 1 don’t know exactly what it is ; but it’s 
a malignant fever — contagious, too.” 

“When did you see him last?” 

“I liaven’t seen him since he went on shore.” 

“Is he very sick?’ ’ 

“I believe he is. There is a great deal of sick- 
ness here. Typhoid fever, I think it is.” 

“But haven’t you seen him?” asked Larry. 

“No. It’s bad enough to stay here when there ’s 
so much sickness, without going to see anybody 
that has the fever,” said Osborne. 

“Who takes care of him?” 

“I don’t know. He sent down for some of the 
hands to stay with him; but none of them would 
go.” 

“At Avhat hotel is he staying?” 

22 


338 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


Osborne mentioned one of the hotels where he 
had becni at first, l)ut believed he was not there 
now. He couldn’t ascertain anything about him, 
and didn’t know but he was dead. We were as- 
tonished at the heartlessness of the sailing-master, 
though, from what we knew of his character, we 
could hardly expect anything better of him. Lar- 
ry and I went on shore immediately, and visited 
the hotel named by Osborne. Mr. Miles Grimsby 
had been there, but, being sick with a malignant 
disease, had been removed to a boarding-house. 
Procuring the services of a commissionaire^ we 
found the place with much difficulty. It was a 
mean house, scantily furnished, and the patient 
had been conveyed to the upper story. We found 
that he was very sick indeed, and was not expect- 
ed to recover ; and Larry was shocked , and in- 
sisted upon going directly to the chamber of Miles. 

‘‘That won’t do, Larry,” I interposed. 

“Why not? He is my cousin; and, though he 
has been my enemy, I will not leave him to die in 
such a hole as this,” he replied, indignantly. 

“But you forget; Miles supposes you are dead. 
If you go into his chamber, the shock might kill 
him.” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


339 


'‘Perhaps you are right. But we must get him 
out of this den.” 

“I will see him, Larry.” 

“I do not ask you to expose yourself to the dis- 
ease, Phil.” 

“I am not afraid of it.” 

The commissionaire would not go with me, so 
great was his dread of the malady, and an old 
woman, who appeared to be Miles’s nurse, con- 
ducted me to his chamber. The room contained 
only a bed and a chair, and was filthy enough to 
breed a pestilence without any help from the 
sewers and the malaria. I should not have recog- 
nized Miles, so fearfully was he altered; and he 
seemed to me to be at death’s door. He looked at 
me, and started as he identified me. 

“Farringford ! ” gasped he, and covered his face 
with the dirty bed-clothes. 

“You are very sick. Miles,” I said, in the gen- 
tlest tones. 

“You have come to curse me,” he groaned, 

“No; 1 have come to save you.” 

“Nothing can save me now. I’m going to die, 
and everybody has deserted me. My cousin haunts 
me day and night. ’ ’ And he groaned in his misery. 


340 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“Be calm, Miles, and we will try to do some- 
thing for yon.” 

“You can’t do anything for me,” he answered, 
throwing down the bed-clothes from his face. “O, 
Farringford, I am cursed (4 God and man!” 

“O, no. Be calm.” 

“I can’t be calm. I have destroyed my cousin. 
I thought it would make me happy. It has made 
me miserable. It will kill me. Can I be for- 
given before I die?” 

“If you are truly penitent, you can.” 

“But Lawrence is dead, and I — ” 

He wept like a little child, in his remorse and 
agony. 

“He is not dead,” I replied, gently. 

“Not dead?” he gasped, starting up in bed. 

“No, not dead. He is alive and well, and at 
this moment trying to serve you.” 

“You are cheating me, Farringford,” he added, 
fixing the gaze of his hollow eyes upon me with 
intense earnestness. 

“I am not. You slnall see him to-day.” 

‘ ‘ But I paid McFordingham five thousand pounds 
for what he told me he had done.” 

“McFordingham believed that he had pushed 


THE TRAMP3 OF A TRAVELLER. 


341 


Larry over the precipice; but the rope saved 
him/’ I replied, explaining the matter very briefly. 

“But I am just as guilty as though I had mur- 
dered him,” he continued, musing, with a Vacar ‘i 
expression. 

“I think you arc.” 

“Will he forgive me? Will he let me die ii 
peace?” 

“He will be glad to forgive you.” 

“Let me see him. Let me beg his forgiveness 
on my knees.” 

He tried to get out of the bed, but the old 
woman restrained him. I never saw a man in 
such agony of mind. Deserted by every friend, 
and left to die in this comfortless apartment, how 
poor and mean his past life seemed to him? How 
utterly worthless the title and the fortune of his 
grandfather were, compared with that peace of 
mind which now, at the portal of the tomb, was 
lost to him! Even Miles was conquered, and 
saw at last that earth had nothing for which a man 
could safely barter his eternal hope. 

I went down and called Larry, who followed 
me up to the chamber. Miles shrank and trem- 
bled as he entered. My friend took his hand, and 
spoke gently to him. 


342 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


“Canyon forgive me, Lawrence groaned the 
sufferer. 

“With all my heart,” replied Larry, pressing 
his hand. “It makes me as happy as it does you 
to do so. May God forgive you, too; and he will 
forgive you if you will truly repent.” 

“I have cried out in misery and remorse for 
weeks in this bed,” whispered Miles, exhausted 
by his emotions. “If I could only die in peace! ” 

Larry said all he could to comfort him. We 
read the Bible and prayed with him, and he was 
calmer. My friend had sent the commwsionaire for 
a celebrated English physician who resided in 
the city, when he learned that no proper medical 
man had attended him. The doctor came, but 
thought the patient’s case was almost hopeless. 
His only chance was in a removal from the pesti- 
lential locality in which his present lodging was 
situated. It was but a short distance from the 
Mole, and was infected by the sewers. Larry 
paid, without a murmur, the exorbitant demands 
of the people in the house. I procured one of the 
covered hand-barrows used to carry the sick or 
wounded to the hospitals, and attended by Dr. 
Bishop, we conveyed Miles on board the Blanche. 
He was placed in the broad berth of Larry’s room. 


THE TTwAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


343 


‘‘Now, hoist your sails, and go to Messina,” 
said the doctor, after he had prescribed for his 
patient. 

We were glad enough to obey this order, and to 
escape the sewers of Naples, which are the bane 
of the city. Osborne was ordered to sail the 
Hermia to England. 

We had a smooth sea and a light breeze, so that 
the voyage was not uncoinfortable to the sick man. 
Larry nursed his cousin day and night with the 
most assiduous care. We had a long passage to 
Messina; but on our arrival the healtli otEcers 
drove us into quarantine. As there was no sick- 
ness there, we did not object. Miles had already 
begun to improve in the change of air and with 
the careful nursing we gave him. Bii I think that 
his peace of mind did quite as much as the nursing 
and the change to save him. He declared that he 
was ready to die now; but this submission only 
contributed to his recovery. In a week he was 
able to sit up. We gave him the nourishing food 
and cordials Avhich the doctor had prescribed, with 
wonderful effect. In another week he went on 
deck, and we sailed for Constantinople. As we 
moved gently along among the fair islands of the 


SEA AND SHORE j OR 


£544 

Archipelago, he lay on the deck, wrapped up in his 
robe-,. Larry read the Bible and other good books 
to him, and watched over him with a woman's 
tenderness. 

As I sat near my friend one day, while we were 
going through the Sea of Marmora, listening to his 
reading. Miles suddenly burst into tears. I was 
not greatly surprised at this demonstration, for he 
had often exhibited evidences of tenderness since 
he came on board the yacht which had before 
seemed utterly foreign to his nature. Ho had 
been at death’s door, and in this condition was 
deserted by his friends, or, rather, by his depend- 
ents. He had given himself up to die alone, and 
in the midst of those who cared only to get his 
last dollar when the breath had left his bod}^ To 
be saved from such a fate and be nursed tenderly 
by the kindest of friends, was more than he could 
bear. It overcame him ; it broke down his worldly 
pride. 

“What are you, Lawrence?” he asked, wiping 
the tears from his thin, pale face. 

‘ ‘ Y ours , truly , ’ ’ repl ied Larry , lightly . 

“I think you are an angel. I can’t help saying 
so when I think of the past.” 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


345 


“O, nonsense!” 

“I have pursued you like a fiend; I have paid 
thousands of pounds to destroy you ; I have hated 
you with all the intensity of my nature ; and yet 
you are willing to risk your life, to expose your- 
self to a malignant disease, to save me. Why 
have you done so?” 

“I’ll toll you, Miles. When you shut me up in 
my state-room for two days on board of the 
Whitewing, I found the Bible in my room. 1 
suppose you did not know it was there.” 

“I did not know there was one on board of 
the yacht.” 

“There was one in that state-room, and I read it 
for two days. If there had been no Bible there, I 
might have shot you on the cliff at Cherrystone 
Hill; I might have tumbled you over the precipice 
at the Voringfos — I don’t know. If Christ could 
forgive those who crucified him, surely we ought 
to try to forgive those who seek to injure us in this 
world. I don’t boast of myself. I only try to do 
my duty. It is hard work sometimes, and we can 
only succeed with the help of God.” 

“I am trying with you now, Lawrence.” 

know you are; and we will cling to each 


346 


SEA AND SHOKE, OR 


other, while we cling together to the religion of 
Jesus Christ. Sir Philip will be glnd to see us 
now.” 

“Mny he be long spared to us!” 

“As to that title, Miles — ” 

“It is yours; and, though I become a beggar, 
I shall now be more rejoiced to see you have it than 
to have it myself,” said Miles, warmly, and sin- 
cerely, I fully believe, for he had already begun 
to “read his title clear to mansions in the skies,” 
and this earthly distinction looked vain and empt3^ 

“I have always begged Sir Philip to treat us 
both alike. I am sure that he will do so now,” 
added Larry. 

Miles was conquered, overcome, by the power of 
love and faith. Larry’s triumph was complete, and 
he had attained the end for which he had labored 
and prayed. We arrived at Constantinople that 
evening. We saw all its strange sights, and we 
explored the Bosphorus and the Black Sea. We 
went to the Holy Land next; and, in the midst 
of the scenes where Christ had lived and died, our 
faith was rekindled and renewed. Miles was by 
this time able to travel on shore, and his impres- 
sions and emotions were even stronger than 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


347 


Larry’s. He was a changed man, and far more 
demonstrative in his religious observances than his 
cousin. He was now as zealous in the right as he 
had been before in the wrong. 

In November, after a tour up the Nile, we sailed 
for Messina. We found the Grace woods there, 
and I had no longer any occasion to compMin of 
the reserve of Ella. The delicious climate had 
already produced a favorable effect upon Mrs. 
Grace wood’s health. With the family on board 
the Blanche, we made an excursion to Malta 
and Palermo. Indeed, we spent the winter in 
cruising about the shores of the Mediterranean. 
We visited all the Italian and Spanish ports, and 
in April, with the Gracewoods on board, we 
sailed from Lisbon for Cowes. On our arrival 
we hastened to Grimsby Hall, where Sir Philip 
clasped both his grandsons in one embrace. 

Miles had sent his yacht home, and directed 
his agent to discharge her crew, and sell her, 
for he was utterly disgusted with Osborne and 
the rest of his people. Larry declared that one 
yacht was quite enough for both of them. 

In May, with the Gracewoods still on board, we 
sailed for New York, where we arrived after a 


348 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


rather long passage, though to me it was the 
pleasantest I ever made, for Ella was on board. 

Of course Larry hastened to Blanche Fennimore 
as soon as the anchor touched the ground. He 
ha<l been absent over a year, and I doubt not the 
warmth of his welcome was in proportion to the 
length of his absence. Leaving him in the most 
exuberant happiness, I went to St. Louis with the 
Grace woods. I need not attemjjt to tell how glad 
my father and mother were to see me. I was at 
home again. 

My father was still true to himself, and he was 
more respected than he had been in his former 
prosperity, for all his business transactions were 
gauged l)y religious principle now. He stood 
high in the church and high in the exchange, for 
no one accused him of hypocrisy. My grand- 
father's estate had been settled, and my motliei ’s 
property, which she unreservedly confided to her 
husband’s keeping, made him rich again. He was 
now the owner of several steamboats; and my old 
friend. Captain Davis, is in command of the 
Gracewood. Our home is as happy as my bright- 
est dream ever pictured it. 

For two years I went as clerk of the Grace- 


THE TRAMPS OF A TRAVELLER. 


349 


wood, and often revisited the scenes of my early 
life on the Upper Missouri; hut now the march 
of civilization is stealing over it, and the f;ice 
of the country is entirely changed. A large vil- 
lage has grown up at the mouth of the creek 
where the wood-yard was, and wheat-fields wave 
where the “Castle” stood. 

My father })uilt a new steamer, which he called 
the Ella, and, after an experience of two years as 
a clerk, the command of her was given to me. 
But I was soon in command of another Ella, or, 
rather, she was in command of me, for she always 
had her own way. Our bridal tour was a trip to 
Europe, a month of which we spent at Grimsby 
Hall with Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence Grimsby. Sir 
Philip still held on to his title, which Miles no 
longer coveted. He was a hale, hearty old man, 
and was eighty-two before I was called upon to 
address my friend as Sir Lawrence Grimsby. 

I found that Miles was as busy as a bee all the 
time, as the patron of scores of religious and 
charitable movements. He was an earnest and 
sincere Christian, and had no occupation but to do 
good to the poor, the ignorant, and the vicious. 

After a six months’ tour in Europe we returned 


350 


SEA AND SHORE, OR 


to America, and settled down in St. Louis. Our 
firm is Farringford & Son, for my father was no 
more disposed to retire from business than I was. 
My wife never makes any ill-natured allusions to 
mothers-in-law% though both members of the firm 
live under one roof. My father and mother are 
quite as happy as Ella and myself, and their 
greatest pride and joy are in their grandchildren. 
It is years since I have seen Sir Lawrence, for 
the little ones have kept both of us at home. He 
does not .keep a yacht. He sold the Blanche 
when he was married, and went with his bride to 
reside at Grimsby Hall. But my friend writes to 
me occasionally, and always has a great deal to 
say about Miles. He counts it as one of the 
happiest events of our Onward and Upward life 
that his cousin was “born again,” as the chief 
incident of that eventful year on Sea and Shore. 


L&Ja22 




Vfi 


»i* 


■.•/.;.• V '* itVt ii '"^ '■ I'''. 

'■ ■'<■ -I . '''■‘■'t/' 

►* #i ' aif IT mV' ‘ ' .?■ 

' 4 ** ■ * ' • w- 


1 ^* 


Xt- 


4 . 


•f>.. 




‘^iTi 








#I *. • 






W' I >'?<'*' yv-' '•; 

r^ ' ■ >:mk 

^iwi' '’,’ 4 •*.• Vi " tkS ■ - 


- ■ -IL' <>V ■'■- KwwSSife'; ■■ ,-^''r ■•■'' '■■ 

■v_;;#r; , #s#»% 

•. BRj ^ -i *• , i*/ . M-* ?ii 

'^"’flPr'*’'-' “' ' "" '' '''" -V'r' ' ' ■'^■‘ - ' 


,V 





*\i 


} • ' t 


V I 


“I,, C- 'v:;:;' ^ 'y'^ym 


- . 1 , 




if*'" 




i 


t 


. , vi» 




W: 


!kt 






Vi 



r ‘ • ‘. ♦^ ■ 


■ '^ ■ '4 i ;■' 

. . 1 ' . .* . . f‘ ' ‘ ! •■ M^WMaV^ ' ■ /! »’'-‘" 7 ^iT 






» 1. <: 




# r 


• t 




n.f 


}. 








K 


l!X 




. ' ' v\v;;vv^r-*85S, > 

. fiSEL ’V ' a- 






^■' *. '^r 

1 “^. 4 .".' 


*,Sr ' 

f'’i5wafa»»:(*v’‘ 
















r.i 


'>y’V - . fvfvM 

^.-.y ^‘^0- 

' ' > • . Vv . ; 


,<>\ 


I I » 


f' ' 


I ' 


V “ « 

V < 


■' i;; *■ t- . ; .- *’"' ‘V' * 'iv ' '■' ' * ' 

V ‘ *v* ‘- ' '^ iil * v^' S? 


\' ., 






S I 


'A'il 







% 

i 

A 






I 


• / 


r.-, ■■■;.■■ ti';« ■«■'■,.,•;■ %■• I -Is 

‘ • V • ^ h™-'* ' ‘V^L* ’ 






9 r 



• « 

\ ' 

V ‘ 

Ml ■ 

\ 

i 

t 

, f 

19 " 

;- 
* . V 


" '* (•>■' 

1 

■ -2^ , 

v ' *1 


A 

- 

1 

: 1 

^ -'■ 

■(* 



P » ' • -/f'V '/ 

■ -'it#:- 

; •.,*'>,' ■■••>■ 'A, ' *•> .tcF ‘ 


'' ' v-.’''iQ"'’'' 


^ V . ^ ' - -*• 

X ' ' • jV 

T ' 4 . *1 

• .-»• At- . V - • , 


v'. 


‘\y 


’-.i^ y... 


H 


.^r :■ 







i r 


i '^7 

V'V 


.i 



.1.'.--V a'*' '•■■*' 


* ■ J/ . .H!' ■ ''■.. , ' ' J'Jt) 




W'«v 
A ^ 

^ L* ^ ' » 

• •<"■■. ‘ 

. ^ ' 




.,V W . , . 


/ 

* • , 


.. / 




X »Ffr ^ ^ 


\ . *.'ir.-\ ;V .'f-* 


... ' 

•* . ' .i K' r 

*i 'V^-, .V 


. $: 


I, » , ^ 

f -*, ■ 


'■'■.v-v" 7 v'' ■' ‘ ^ ^ -. '‘t 

j' .’wV'. . ‘'-ti 

- ■ -v 

v‘ '.:.:v ■‘■■ii'-S ' ' ■ U - 4 


\ -• 

• ^ 


\ 


. ^ 


N. 





) 


t < 

/ 




• i, 


'fr-'-i'* 

■v^;.l' 


»■ .. •■ ' -mm 


w t 


1 1 







1 ' V. 


/ % 


.> f 

V 


N . .*, 


i t 


» ' . > 

» 

• ■ 

I. 




• f‘ ■ 


* 1 * h 

M 


Div 



^ 

> '•( 


> ' ■• 
* ■) . ' 


, ‘ M 

~ ■ I . 

,. ♦ I . rtt . X 7 


C/.< ‘ ^ jX 

• •*’<,< -5 • ". Lj 




/ : . ' 

■ t 




■■•.i- KV ■ 






• f 











^ifr' 

'JV •- ^^'‘ 

W. 

lift. 

' I* 


• -IWr „-■ r-mi 


« <*• 


*• 4 ' 


.' 4 ' 


■■ .UV :• /'y." . V'/;, 


V’V , 


'< 


■» 




I 


■# . 


\ 




i. 


I 


•V • X 






f ^ 


» 


ri • 

■■ * » 




■ r 


I 

»1 


■/ 


' » '^ ' 


r 


» V, 

/ 





» 


. r 




A-- ? ri 




.i* 


V 




r * • * ' 

• • ' t , . • ‘. ? 

.1 ,■ .» 





#>• 



*»«. 



4 - 




"A '', ■■»•■• 




. 

'V«. 

, • v'.» 

< 

,-' ■ ■* ' . ' 

"v 1? . 

..t. 

' 1 * •/.'*■ !*•..' 

•- 

. * 

\ '• 

t ' 

f 

1 ' 

' ' , t| •^ 

’ ‘ 

' ‘ '•).< ■ • Vr ' 

V • * 

PU 











